


Come Wander With Me

by BeAVixen



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Author Eliott, Barista Lucas, Eliott writes books anonymously, First Meetings, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Ratings might change, Slow Build, maybe smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-03-04 23:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeAVixen/pseuds/BeAVixen
Summary: "Join me in five?"ORLucas has been living in a small commune in northwestern France all his life, working in a coffee shop and bookstore owned by Basile's dad, used to the same faces all the time. A new resident clearly sweeps Lucas off his feet, but how much does Lucas really know about his new crush?





	1. Join me in five?

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

“Order for Chloé!”

Lucas inhales deeply as a short, young brunette walks over to him, grabbing her coffee and bag of croissants, a sly smirk on her face. “Thanks, Lucas,” she replies, looking down at his nametag and throwing in a wink at the end. As if her wink was going to do anything at all.

“Dude! She was definitely into you! Send her my way,” Basile gushes, eyeing the girl as she walks away with her two other friends, and Lucas can feel his eyes burn from how hard he rolls his eyes.

“Basile, I will not allow you to use me to pick up girls, do it yourself for fuck’s sake,” Lucas mutters, turning back to the coffee machines to prepare the next order.

“My luck with girls is ass, though, you know that! What’s your secret?”

Lucas turns sharply towards Basile. “Honestly, Bas, I breathe, and girls flock my way. I would help you if I could but honestly that doesn’t work with men and that’s who I need my charm to work with, so my advice is most likely useless.”

“I’m certain that doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m certain it does.”

This was just part of a usual day in Lucas’ life; make coffees, serve people food, restock the bookstore, endure Basile’s constant want for Lucas to pick up girls just to pass them along to him, go home, study, eat, go to bed, and repeat. Lucas’ been living in Sulniac practically his whole life, and there wasn’t much to do; it was a very small commune on the northwestern side of France, so entertainment was limited. He’s studying law at a Vannes university, but Vannes alone is hours away, so all of his courses are online. He is grateful for the friends he has, especially Basile, because it was Basile’s dad that decided to open the coffee shop and bookstore, offering a job to Lucas the minute business was running. Lucas had been working there since he was fifteen; he’s now twenty-one, and he isn’t planning on leaving. As small and quiet as Sulniac was, he enjoys the peace of the commune, how beautiful the buildings are, and he loves how everyone gets along, seeing as everyone came to know each other as time went by. He has also never explored bigger cities, so he’s settling for what he has; amazing friends, who were also sweet roommates, classes he doesn’t have to attend to complete and a decently-paying job.

“Order for… ha, order for Yann,” Lucas chuckles, walking over to the counter to give his best friend’s order.

“How’s work, big guy?” Yann asks as he comes to take his order, Arthur tagging behind him.

“It’s how it always is,” Lucas shrugs, “Nothing special.” The only problem with working in a small place was how repetitive days could become; he was able to name almost every customer by name, could create their order before they even came in, and it was to the point where he was almost on autopilot.

“La Boissonière later, boys?” Arthur asks excitedly, jumping up and down on Yann’s back. La Boissonière was one of the only bars in Sulniac, and the bartender took such a liking to Basile that they usually got their drinks on the house, so they would end up there more often than not. It’s abuse, but hey, free booze.

“Always,” Lucas replies, tapping Basile on the shoulder to get his attention. “We’re going out later.”

“Hey, think I can make a move on Daphné tonight?” Basile winks, earning a groan from all the boys.

“That’s if Daphné doesn’t make a move on you first, she’s liked you forever, dude, you’re just blind,” Arthur complains, clearly exasperated with Basile, but honestly, when were they not? Daphné only started offering them free drinks because of Basile, and yet Basile always seems to think he needs to go make a move on her.

“I don’t believe you, but I guess we’ll see tonight, right?” Basile throws his arms up excitedly, shaking his hips in what seemed to be a really bad attempt at dancing.

“Back to work!” Basile’s dad yells from the kitchen, and Basile’s arms immediately drop.

“You heard the man,” Lucas chuckles, shooing his friends away. “See you tonight!”

***

 **maman**  
“Therefore I say unto you, what things so ever you desire when you pray believe that your eceive them, and you shall have them and when you stand praying, forgive, if you have fought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. But if you do not forgive, neither will your father, which is in heaven, forgive your trespasses.”  
Mark 11:24-26

Lucas sighs, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Messages from his mother don’t happen often, but when they do, they’re always cryptic, and usually bible verses. They always seem to reflect on beliefs she has about how Lucas is living his life, and most of the time she’s right, but Lucas can’t be bothered to analyze the verses. It creeps him out, and regardless, he isn’t religious, so it’s basically useless.

Lucas lived with his family up until he was sixteen. His father was an asshole who would be out cheating every night he possibly could and constantly working during the day while Lucas stayed at home to take care of his mother who was clearly in a battle with mental illness. When Lucas realized that he could no longer take care of his mother and himself at the same time, he begged his father to start helping out. What he expected was for his father to start staying home to take care of his wife; what he didn’t expect was for his father to fuck off to Paris, bringing her with him just to drip her off at a clinic and leaving Lucas alone, in Sulniac, simply leaving a note to tell him where they had gone. Yeah, his dad had sent money weekly, making sure Lucas was always able to buy food to provide for himself, and yeah, his dad would visit when he could, and yeah, Lucas would take the bus when he could to go visit his mother and make sure she was doing okay, but the reality of the matter was that Lucas had been abandoned at sixteen. He was still growing, still trying to figure himself out, and he didn’t have a single parental figure to help him out.

So, he did it all on his own; he grew. All the major milestones in his life, he committed them by himself. Graduation, his coming out, getting a job, he did it all by himself. Part of him was proud that he was able to do it all by himself, but part of him also wishes he didn’t have to. Part of him wishes his family would have raised him like he witnessed Yann, or Arthur or Basile get raised. They all had stable families. There wasn’t much he could say about his.

He personally went to Paris when he got accepted into university. It was a huge milestone for him, one he didn’t expect to be able to do after everything he had gone to. The day he went to Paris, he wasn’t able to meet her mother due to an event that had happened the night before, causing her to be on lockdown. When he texted his dad, his dad told him he was busy, sent him the money he needed to pay his schooling, and that was all. Lucas had wasted money to head to Paris for nothing.

When he was promoted at work and started getting more shifts and more money, he stopped accepting his father’s money. He was tired of always feeling like he owed him something, like his dad still had some sort of ownership over him because he was the reason Lucas could afford what he had. He had raised himself; he didn’t need his dad’s help anymore. He could do it on his own.

Yann, Arthur and Basile moved in with him when they all turned 17. Their families were all still in Sulniac as well, but the boys had always expressed how much they would love to be in a house together, and Lucas had a big, empty house that was payed off. Once they graduated, the boys were moving out of their parents’ house, and soon, they were all living under the same roof. It had been a blast then, and it was still a blast ever since. They enjoyed each other’s presence. He had some of the most supportive friends ever, and he was so happy to have them in his life. They had become his family.

“Who’s ready to get fucked?!” Yann hollers down the hall, sprinting past Lucas’ door and down the stairs. Lucas chuckles, checking his hair in the mirror one more time before following Yann down the stairs, ready to leave.

“I have to wait for Alexia,” Arthur mutters, his eyes fixed on his phone. Alexia was Arthur’s high school sweetheart; they had gotten together in second year and had been together ever since. Lucas couldn’t pretend he didn’t envy them; finding another man that was interested in men was very hard where he was due to the small population. Alexia was over at their house pretty often, and they never failed to be the cutest couple alive and constantly make Lucas jealous.

“Tell your girl to speed it up, or we’ll leave without her,” Yann complains, tapping his watch aggressively. As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door, and Alexia bursts through, followed by two of her best friends, Manon and Imane. Lucas greets them all, giving Manon specifically a big hug. He had met Manon in second year back in high school, and she had been there for him when his family left. She had had similar experiences with her parents, so she knew exactly what to say and do to help Lucas out.

“Sorry we took so long, we were just getting ready,” she says, smiling apologetically at Yann, who is clearly vexed.

“We won’t take any more of your excuses, we want to get DRUNK!” Basile hollers, shoving everyone out the door. They walk over to La Boissonière, hollering down the streets and acting like absolute crazy people. This was when Lucas was feeling his best; with his friends, acting crazy, but surrounded with love and people who cared about him.

In that moment, he really was living his best life.

***

His hangover the next day was not him living his best life at all.

“I just want to be done,” Lucas whines, repeatedly checking the clock on the wall. He had been in since 8:30, and it was nearing 17:00, which is when he usually finished. He usually is in shape to get through the eight and a half hours of work, but today is not one of those days.

“Another ten minutes, my guy, you can do it,” Basile cheers as he walks by the counter, laughing at Lucas’ horrible state. Lucas only remembers the first few shots he drank, remembers an unknown figure carrying him back to his house, then he remembers being in bed, and next thing he knew he was awake and hurling over a trashcan.

“This is torture,” Lucas mutters, his head in his hand as he eyes the door. Sundays are just about the deadest the shop ever is; there are a few people in the bookstore section, but Basile is working in that section at the moment, which means Lucas literally has nothing to do.

Deciding to distract himself with something to do before he loses his mind, he reaches into his bag, grabbing E. More’s first novel and starting it from the beginning.

E. More was an author Lucas had been reading since he was eighteen; their first published book had been a masterpiece, a story about a creature who lived in the dark, constantly, immensely afraid of the light and what the light could bring to their life. The creature meets a teenage boy, sweet and charming, except the teenage boy is afraid of the dark. They grow closer as the story goes, but they cannot ever truly be together unless one of them overcomes their fears and goes into the other’s world. The story ends happily, and Lucas was in a puddle of his own tears, and he never failed to buy another one of E. More’s novels after that. While every book was anthological, every new story always captured Lucas and Lucas always felt like he could find himself in the stories he read. The sad thing about E. More was that they hadn’t published a new novel in over two years, and Lucas had to resort to rereading the ones he had already read. There was no way to know why E. More had stopped writing, and if it was temporary or not, because E. More never showed their face, never did book tours, didn’t have any social media, nothing. People knew they had released a book when their agent shipped large boxes filled with a new novel to every bookstore they could possibly find in France. Lucas was pretty sure E. More wasn’t even their real name.

Lucas is so invested in his novel that he doesn’t notice the door opening and closing, announcing a new arrival. He looks up briefly to glance at the clock one more time, and almost jumps when he realizes that someone is standing in front of the counter, looking up at the menu.

And, wow.

Lucas is certain he has met every single person in Sulniac, but this man? He has to be a new resident, as Lucas would remember seeing him. He’s tall, his short, brown hair sticking up and out in different directions, a brown jacket sitting on defined shoulders, long, slender fingers running over pink, luscious lips as grey eyes scan the menu over and over. He’s beautiful.

Lucas stands, quite abruptly, striding over to the counter. He stands in front of the man, who doesn’t blink an eye at him, and suddenly Lucas’ confused. This guy is clearly thinking hard about what he’s going to order.

Lucas clears his throat, gathering the attention of the man, and wow, he didn’t notice how tall this guy truly was. He’s looking down at him, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry, I don’t know what to get.”

Lucas turns back, scanning the menu quickly himself.

“I guess it depends on if you have a sweet tooth or if you prefer your coffee a little more bitter,” Lucas replies, praying that he doesn’t sound as nervous as he actually feels. “Personally, one of my favorites is the Bueno latte. We use what’s in the center of a Kinder Bueno and mix it in with the milk; it’s very tasty and surprisingly, it’s not too sweet. I wouldn’t get it if you have an allergy to hazelnut, though.”

The man nods thoughtfully, his smile getting bigger. “I’ll have two of those, then.”

“Okay,” Lucas mutters, grabbing two cups, and he’s confused, because who gets two coffees? This guy must have some sort of coffee addiction, which Lucas didn’t blame him for, but still. He definitely came in alone, so they were both for him.

“Uh, I need a name, to put on the cups,” Lucas speaks, grabbing a sharpie and looking up at the man. The man is looking down at him and he’s grinning and there’s a twinkle in his eye, and Lucas feels like he could melt then and there.

“Oh, it’s Eliott. E-l-i-o-t-t,” he spells out, and Lucas wants to pass out from how cute he is.

“Do you want that name on both cups?” Lucas asks, but the man—Eliott—doesn’t answer his question at all. Instead, he says:

“When do you get a break?” And, what?

“Uh,” Lucas replies dumbly, his confusion increasing the longer Eliott stands in front of him. “I’m done in about five minutes?” Lucas quickly checks the clock, nodding when he makes sure that five minutes was accurate.

“Okay,” Eliott replies, looks down, and then, here’s the real kicker: “Write Lucas down on the other cup then,” and Lucas feels like the air was knocked right out of his chest, because what?!

“I… okay,” Lucas mumbles, writing down his name on the other cup, and his hands are shaking as he’s making the drinks because what the actual fuck is going on?

“Order for Eliott,” he says as he hands him the drinks, expecting him to thank him and leave. That’s clearly not what happens at all.

“Join me in five?” Eliott asks, and Lucas eyebrows probably disappear into his hairline from how shocked he feels right now. This guy is blatantly asking him to sit down for a coffee, and is this a fucking date? Just like that?

Lucas can’t believe his life right now.

“Okay,” he answers, and he feels like that’s all he’s been saying for the past five minutes and he feels like an idiot, until Eliott smiles brightly at him with all his teeth, and all Lucas can do is smile back at him, watching as he walks over to one of the small coffee tables, putting his coffee down in front of him and placing Lucas’ coffee in front of him. He turns back to Lucas, smiling and nodding over to Lucas’ coffee, inviting him over whenever he’s done.

And Lucas, well, Lucas pinches himself, because there’s no way this isn’t a dream.


	2. I got you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so MUCH for the comments on the first chapter! They’re seriously so motivating and really pushed me to write this chapter! Chapter 3 is almost completed as we speak due to how excited I was to keep this going and it’s all thanks to y’all so thank you so MUCH!!!
> 
> Ignore how much I abused italics in this chapter, idk what took over me. Also, swears, lots of them.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Lucas is staring. 

He’s aware of it, and it’s quite embarrassing if he’s honest, but he can’t stop _staring_.

First of all, upon a closer look, Lucas can say that he is now _one hundred_ percent certain that he has never seen this man before, because he would definitely remember. No beauty walks around Sulniac unnoticed. Second of all, this—this _Greek God_ —had pointed him out, specifically, in the shop, had quickly made a move, and invited him to sit down for a coffee, without even knowing him. What kind of _sick joke_ is this? Who the fuck is pranking him?

So yeah, Lucas couldn’t stop fucking staring, because fucking _look at him_.

“You look like you severely want to ask me a question,” Eliott teases, running his fingers up and down his coffee cup. Lucas shifts uncomfortably in his seat, not knowing where to start. What does one even say to this man?

“I just…” Lucas starts, trying to gather his thoughts and words, trying to make sure that he’s not going to start stuttering and making a complete fool of himself. “I’ve lived here my whole life; it’s to a point where I feel like I know almost everyone here, or at most everyone in my age range. I’ve had customers come in and out of this place so often that I’ve learned to remember their coffee orders, their favorite authors, what kind of books they like to read… but you, I’ve… I would remember seeing you.”

Eliott smiles up at him, close-mouthed, and it’s the most gorgeous thing Lucas has ever seen in his life. He truly is living a real life dream right now and he has no clue what to do.

“You are right,” Eliott shrugs, “I’m not from here.” Lucas is definitely curious but doesn’t want to impose and start asking Eliott his entire life history. Luckily, Eliott beats him to it. “I’m from Paris, actually.”

Lucas can feel his eyebrows shoot up past his hairline. “You’re from Paris? What the hell are you doing here, then? City life wasn’t for you?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” Eliott shakes his head, looking back down at his cup. “I needed to leave for a while.” He pauses, and Lucas knows that he must look as curious as ever, because Eliott continues. “I’m actually a writer, and I’ve been working on a new novel for a while now, but I keep hitting these walls where I have no idea what to write or I have no idea where I want my story to go, and I can’t concentrate because my agent is always on my ass about getting a new book out because it’s been forever, but there was no motivation, you know? I felt like I was suffocating, so I figured I needed a change, only for a while. I’m staying in an apartment a few kilometers out, not really sure for how long, though. I guess I’ll be here until I’m ready to go back.”

Lucas is nodding along, hoping that his excitement isn’t evident in his face. Not only is this guy here right now, with him, but he plans on staying indefinitely? Lucas was on Cloud _fucking_ 9.

“Well, if you’re looking for peace and quiet, you’ve come to the right place; Sulniac is as small as it gets,” Lucas replies, taking a sip of his drink.

“I definitely am right where I want to be,” Eliott mutters, looking up through his lashes at Lucas, and _woah_ , those are definitely butterflies going wild in his stomach right now.

“This place is cute,” Eliott gushes, tearing his eyes away from Lucas to look around and take in the small but gorgeous shop. The coffee shop area is filled with bright yellows and beiges coloring the walls, the counter painted fully in white with the chalkboards containing the menus perfectly decorated (thanks Manon), but the bookstore is the complete opposite, with its dark brown walls, wooden tables and dark shelves. The coffee shop is lively and welcoming, while the bookstore is really where you go to grab a book, hide in a corner and escape into the world of the words printed on paper. “I like the coffee shop to bookstore contrast.”

“Yeah, I find that pretty brilliant,” Lucas responds, looking behind him towards the bookstore. Basile is at the front counter, and Daphné’s here, talking loudly and intensely about a book while Basile leans on the counter, looking at her with the biggest heart eyes Lucas has ever seen; probably even bigger than his own. Upon closer look, he realizes that Daphné’s holding E. More’s most recent book, and he suddenly understands why she’s so passionate.

“That girl sure is into that book,” Elliot chuckles, bringing his drink to his mouth. Lucas turns sharply towards him, eyes narrowed.

“I hope you’re not about to disrespect E. More, because they’re one of my favorite authors.”

Eliott looks down at his cup, the corner of his lip slightly raised in a small smirk. “No disrespect there. Do you like them?”

“Like them? I _love_ them. Their writing is brilliant, the way they tell stories and capture the emotion of all their characters, it’s amazing. The plots are always so good, as well, so interesting, they keep the readers entertained from beginning to end. Honestly some of the best books I’ve ever read were by them.”

Lucas’ gushing over E. More and Eliott’s smiling, a slight tinge in his cheeks, almost nearing a blush, and Lucas’ confused, but he doesn’t question it. Maybe he’s feeling a little embarrassed about Lucas’ behavior, so Lucas cuts it short. “Anyway, I’m not going to get too much into it. What books do you write? Have I read them before?”

Eliott shrugs, playing with the sleeve on his cup. “I don’t know, maybe. I work under a pseudonym, so you wouldn’t know.”

“Huh. Do you think your books are in here?”

“Possibly.”

Lucas raises a challenging brow, pushing himself out of his chair. “I’m going to find your books, right now,” he states, waiting for Eliott to stand with him.

“You’re serious? How are you going to know it’s me?”

“I’ll make educated guesses,” Lucas chuckles, and Eliott stands, his eyes glimmering with… Lucas doesn’t know. Honestly, his eyes are just pretty.

“Alright then,” Eliott laughs, waving over to the shelves of books. “Lead the way, then.”

They weave through the shelves of the shop, giggling and laughing like idiots. Lucas is running his hands down every spine of the books, randomly pulling out books, reading the author’s name, and scanning Eliott’s face to see if he’s giving anything away, but Eliott won’t budge. At every name, he shakes his head, says “nope”, and Lucas’ search continues.

Lucas slides a book out of its place, reading the author’s name out loud. “Benjamin Sáenz. Sounds like a decent pseudonym.”

“Funny,” Eliott grins, “but no. Not me.”

Lucas pouts, shoving the book back in its slot. He walks a few steps, pulling another one out. “André Aciman. This you?”

“No,” Eliott groans, ripping the book out of its hands. “I don’t even compare. Have you read _Call Me by Your Name_?”

“Nah, is it any good?”

“Amazing,” Eliott breathes, sliding the book back in its slot. “One of my favorites.”

Lucas shrugs, taking a few more steps and pulling out another book. “Ah, Rainbow Rowell. This you?”

“That’s a woman,” Eliott laughs, grabbing the book and putting it back in its slot.

“So? You could be using a woman’s name as code.”

“I wish, but, that’s not it.” Eliott then tilts his head, eyeing Lucas curiously. “I find an odd reoccurring pattern in these books you think I wrote.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re all stories between two men.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucas replies, but he can feel how hot his cheeks are, and he knows that his embarrassment is clear in his face. He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he just happened to recognize most of those books by name, specifically because there was a time where he sat and looked up as many gay books as possible to make him feel better about the fact that he was struggling to find love. He wasn’t about to admit that, though.

“Oh yeah?” Eliott challenges, crossing his arms and taking a step forward into Lucas’ space, and _holy fuck_. “ _Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe_? _Carry On_? _Call Me By Your Name_? Is this just a coincidence, or are you trying to tell me something?”

Lucas frowns, looking away. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

Eliott chuckles, bumping Lucas’ shoulder with his. “I’m just messing with you, Lucas.” He then himself reaches for a book, pulling it out and placing it in Lucas’ hands. “This one’s mine.”

Lucas looks down at the book, and a laugh escapes his throat. “Gustave Flaubert? Sure, okay, because you’re definitely a hundred- and ninety-year-old man.”

“Hey, don’t insult me like that!”

“Not only is your name ridiculous,” Lucas chuckles, “but _Madame Bovary_ is hell. This book made me fail French class, back in the day.”

“That’s not my fault, suddenly I take no ownership,” Eliott throws his hands up, clearly laughing at him. Lucas rolls his eyes, placing the book back in its slot and leaving the labyrinth that was the shelves filled with copious amounts of books.

“Honestly, I’ve been through most of these. At this point, you could be E. More and I wouldn’t even notice; if your book’s in here, you’re clearly not going to tell me.”

“To be honest with you, it is in here. I saw it earlier,” Eliott says, pointing at the shelves behind him, and Lucas is unimpressed.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Nah.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You like it,” Eliott smirks, seeming so sure of himself. and Lucas can’t even refuse or complain, because he’s absolutely right. Lucas loves everything and anything about Eliott.

Their coffees have run cold and they’re talking animatedly about some Norwegian series that they both happened to be into when the lights slowly start shutting off, the string lights by the chalkboards being the only light illuminating the room.

“I’m closing up,” Basile shouts from the counter, his jacket on and his bag on his shoulder. He looks over at Lucas, raising his hand to wave him over, when he realizes that Lucas’ not alone. The biggest grin appears on his face as he stumbles over to them, his eyes locked on Eliott. “Hey! Didn’t even realize you weren’t alone. What’s up? I’m Basile.” He sticks his hand out and Eliott shakes it, grinning up at Bas and Lucas’ embarrassed over Basile’s behavior, but Eliott doesn’t even seem fazed. What kind of perfect man is that?

“I’m Eliott, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. New here?”

“Yeah, been here for a little under two weeks now.”

“Great! You’re gonna love it here, very small, relaxed, it’s chill. You should definitely come hang with us sometime! We all live in a house together.”

“Bas,” Lucas mutters, annoyed, and Basile steps down, smiling apologetically at Eliott. “Don’t mean to overwhelm you dude, I’m just happy to see a new face.”

“I’m not overwhelmed at all, you’re all good dude. I’ll definitely visit at some point, if everyone’s cool with it,” Eliott says, and he’s talking to Basile but his eyes are watching Lucas, as if trying to see his reaction to the news that he might be coming over at some point. Lucas had been ticking off his mental “Perfect Man” list in his head, and Eliott had hit every single tick except for “getting along with my friends”, just because Lucas hadn’t introduced him to them yet. Now that he was watching him interact with Basile, and he didn’t seem at all bothered by Basile’s behavior, Lucas understood that this truly was the perfect man.

“Chill! I’m tired as fuck from working and FIFA is calling my name, so I’m gonna head home. You coming, Lucas, or do you want to close?”

“I’ll close up,” Lucas replies, catching the key in his hands when Basile chucks them at him.

“Later. Nice to meet you again, Eliott!” he shouts, before swinging the door open and stepping out, and now it’s just Lucas and Eliott in the silence of the empty shop, and the lights are hitting Eliott’s face so beautifully, bringing an extra twinkle in his eye and highlighting all his amazing features, like his defined cheekbones, the sharp bridge of his nose and the curve of his upper lip. Lucas can’t get enough of him and he’s sure he looks like some lovesick puppy right now, his head leaning on his hand as he looks up at him, taking him all in. Lucas’ sure that Eliott is watching him the exact same way, but it’s easier to blame it on his imagination, because Eliott finding Lucas attractive is damn near impossible, but it isn’t, isn’t it? Because Eliott made the first move. Eliott invited Lucas over for a drink. Eliott followed him around all day and listened as Lucas spoke some nonsense or gushed about a book he read.

The room feels really hot, suddenly, and he feels like his insides are squirming under Eliott’s intense gaze. He wants to lean in, wants to run his hands through the man’s hair, down his nose bridge, across his cheekbones, drag his thumbs against his perfectly sculpted jawline. His eyes drop lower, Eliott’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, and Lucas wants to attach his teeth to that neck, wants to run his tongue down and then up, wants to drop small, light kisses along his jaw.

_Bzzzz._

Eliott’s phone vibrates, and Lucas immediately looks away, feeling like he got caught committing a crime. Lucas wants to slap himself in the face; who the fuck just eats someone up with their eyes like that? Eliott had to have noticed, but he wasn’t saying anything, and Lucas wasn’t going to mention it either.

“Ah, my agent wants to Skype call me as soon as possible, so I’m gonna head home,” Eliott speaks, pushing his chair back.

“I’ll walk you to the bus stop,” Lucas offers, but Eliott shakes his head, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Nah, I don’t want you to have to walk back by yourself, it’s pretty dark. I’ll just catch a taxi out here.”

“For sure,” Lucas replies, “just let me go get my stuff in the back.” He hops over the counter, gathering his bags and his jacket as fast as possible. “Uh,” Lucas stops. “Can you come here?”

Eliott walks over to the counter, confused. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I just, uh,” Lucas starts, and holy _fuck_ , this is embarrassing. “I have to unplug these lights, but it gets super dark in here when I do.” He looks up and Eliott is biting his bottom lip, clearly trying not to laugh, and Lucas wants to dig a whole and put himself in it.

“You’re afraid of the dark?” Eliott teases, leaning against the counter confidently.

“Absolutely not,” Lucas retorts, trying not to let the fear show in his voice. “I just… prefer the light.”

“I’m messing with you, Lucas,” Eliott jokes, holding out his hand. “Here, hold my hand with one hand, and unplug the light with the other; that way, when it’s dark, you’ll know I’m still here.”

Lucas wills his heart to relax as his fingers latch onto Eliott’s, and he swears he feels the goosebumps rising on his arms, a full chill running from the tips of his fingers throughout his entire body. Eliott’s hands are warm, soft, and big, his fingers wrapping protectively around his palm, and Lucas feels safer than he ever has.

He reaches for the lights, removing it from the outlet, and suddenly the room is completely dark. He blinks a few times, trying to adjust his eyes to the complete darkness except for the lights leaking through the windows, and as he can feel his heart rate increase from the darkness swallowing him, a squeeze to his hand brings him back, and suddenly all he can feel, and think is _Eliott_. Eliott’s there, holding his hand to show that he’s still here, and Lucas knows that his heart is now racing for completely different reasons.

“You okay?” Eliott asks, amusement laced in his tone as Lucas hops back over the counter, refusing to let go of Eliott’s hand.

“I’m okay,” he chuckles, willing his voice not to shake.

“I got you,” Eliott says, and Lucas feels like there’s more weight to those words than just, _I’ve got you from the scary monsters that creep in the darkness._ It sounds serious, it sounds like it holds so much more. _I’ve got you now, and later, and for the rest of my life._

He leaps over the counter gently, making sure not to trip over himself, slowly leading Eliott towards the door and locking it behind him. Once the door is locked and they’re outside in the brightness of the street lights, Eliott gently releases his hand, and Lucas misses the warmth and safety that came with it, but he’s not going to say anything, because he’s pretty sure he’s exposed himself enough for the rest of the week.

They’re silent as they wait for a taxi, Eliott repeatedly checking his phone nervously.

“Your agent can wait,” Lucas says, eyeing Eliott’s phone. “It’s not going to kill her if you don’t call her for a few minutes.”

“I wish I could agree, but she’s pretty crazy,” Eliott chuckles sadly, giving one more glance at his phone. “I kind of wish I could just block her. Not have to deal with her until I’m ready to go back.”

Lucas shrugs a single shoulder, looking up at Eliott. “Why don’t you?”

“What?”

“Call her and tell her that this is your last conversation. If she wants a new book out of you, you need full concentration, and her constantly calling you to see if you’ve made any progress isn’t going to help. She should understand that you need a _full_ break from Paris to actually get this done, not just leave the place while she continues to bombard you with texts and calls.”

Eliott’s looking at him with this _look_ in his eyes, and for a second Lucas feels like he might have said something wrong, but then Eliott pockets his phone, grinning brightly at Lucas.

“I’m going to tell her that later,” Eliott nods. “I think I need a complete cut-off from her and the company if I really want to get this done.” Lucas smiles up at him, agreeing with his decision, and then there’s a pause before Eliott speaks up again. “I think my agent’s going to be pretty pissed, though.”

“Why?” Lucas asks. “She shouldn’t be pissed, she should understand.”

“Not about the books,” Lucas replies. “About my distractions. I’m about to tell her that she has to stop calling because I need full concentration, but she doesn’t know just how distracted I’m going to be here." 

“Why would you be distracted here?”  
  
“Because I met you.”

Lucas looks up sharply, his eyes meeting Eliott’s, and Lucas hadn’t realized how close they were standing. Eliott was looking down at him, a small smile on his face and Lucas knew that one off move or one raise on his tiptoes would lead to them nearly sharing one breath.

Lucas opens his mouth to say something, anything, when a taxi slows down by them and Eliott flags them down. Lucas’ disappointed; he doesn’t want to leave, he honestly wishes he could spend the rest of the night with him, just talking, or maybe not doing any talking at all. Either or would work perfectly fine.

“Where do you live?” Eliott asks as the taxi pulls up next to them.

“La Salle, it’s a few blocks from here.”  
  
Eliott leans down to the passenger window, greeting the taxi driver. “Yeah, can I get a ride to La Salle please?”

“Huh?” Lucas whispers as Eliott opens the door, but he’s not making any moves to get in, he’s waiting for _Lucas to step in_.

“I don’t want you walking home by yourself."

“You need a taxi more than I do,” Lucas complains, but Eliott shakes his head. “I’ll take the next one.”

Begrudgingly, Lucas enters the taxi, shutting the door behind him and immediately pulling the window down, prompting Eliott to lean against it.

“When am I seeing you again?” Eliott asks, and Lucas’ heart feel like it’s going to jump out of his chest. 

“I work tomorrow.” 

Eliott winks. “Tomorrow it is, then,” he finishes, before leaning back, signaling to the taxi driver that he’s good to go. He gives one last wave to Lucas before the taxi pulls off, heading for Lucas’ home, and Lucas remembers the driver trying to make conversation with him on the way back, but Lucas can’t even remember what he was asked or what he was answered, because all he could think about were those soft, warm hands in his, a gentle smile looking back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/Thoughts/Kudos are always taken with open arms!


	3. I'm not going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to "I Love You" by Billie Eilish writing this, and I think you should too. Maybe not the whole thing but at a certain point. You'll know the part. :)
> 
> I abuse italics way more in this chapter than the last one and I have no shame. Also, still lots of swearing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“So who’s the dude?” Yann asks immediately upon Lucas entering his house. He drops the most irritated look at Basile, who’s pointedly not looking back at him, eyes focused on the FIFA in front of him.

“Really, Bas? You couldn’t give it one second.”

“Hey, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

“Fuck off,” Lucas rolls his eyes, kicking off his shoes. Arthur’s playing against Basile and clearly winning, his tongue poking out between his lips. Basile’s frustrated, his fingers moving quickly against the remote, trying to get the ball from Arthur. Yann’s leaning back against their reclining chair, a book in his hands as he chews on an apple, and Lucas can hear noise coming from the kitchen; probably Alexia whipping up something to eat. The boys couldn’t cook for shit and always resorted to eating like shit, ordering pizza or crepes every two days and stuffing their faces with pastries at random hours of the day. Lucas was grateful for Alexia, because she cleaned and cooked, which is exactly what Arthur, and by association, the boys, needed.

Lucas crashes on the couch next to Arthur, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“So?” Yann asks, not even looking up from the book in his hands. “You going to tell us who’s the guy you met today?”

Lucas shrugs, feigning boredom. “Just some dude who recently moved here.”

“Just some dude,” Basile chortles, shaking his head vigorously. “Dude, you should have seen them today! The heart eyes were flying back and forth between the two of them. I felt like I was watching an E. More novel come to life!”

“First of all,” Lucas cuts off, “E. More’s storylines don’t even compare. Second of all, there were no heart eyes. The heart eyes were you and Daphné looking at each other earlier.” A dopey smile makes its way onto Basile’s face, making Lucas chuckle.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love,” Basile sighs, his head in his hands as he stares dreamily at the ceiling.

“You should be in love more often, it’s causing you to suck ass at this game,” Arthur teases, scoring another goal. Basile groans, frustrated, chucking the remote to the ground. “I give up,” he groans. “I suck at this.”

“It’s alright, choupi, you’ll get it right next time,” Arthur laughs, leaning back on the couch as Alexia walks into the living room. She drops a kiss on his forehead, patting his cheek lovingly. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Oh fuck _yes_ , I’m starving! Hey, Alexia, if you’re going to be here more often, you mind bringing Daphné around some more?”

“You’re so annoying,” Arthur laughs, jumping up and making a run for the kitchen. Basile chases after them, just as hungry, but both Yann and Lucas don’t move, and when Lucas looks over, Yann is staring at him expectantly.

“What?”

Yann rolls his eyes, shutting his book. “Seriously Lucas, who’s the guy?”

Lucas sighs, knowing he’s incapable of being vague to his best friend. “His name’s Eliott. He just moved from Paris temporarily; he’s on a work leave.”

“What does he do for work?”

“He’s an author. He’s got writer’s block, so he fled Paris to take a break and find some inspiration elsewhere.”

Yann nods, and his mouth is twisting up, revealing to Lucas that he’s deep in thought. “How’d you meet him?”

“Honestly, this is going to sound crazy, but he made a move on me,” Lucas starts, and Yann’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, a big grin appearing on his face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Lucas replies, looking down at his hands. “He came up to me before my shift ended, and ordered a coffee for him and I. It was the smoothest thing I had ever witnessed, dude, he ordered two drinks, I asked him what name to put on the cup, and he said his for one and mine for the other. Then he invited me over when I was done.”

“Dude!” Yann hollers, throwing his arms side to side in excitement. “This is some good fucking food!”

“Nothing’s going to happen,” Lucas shuts it down before Yann starts getting excited. “I’m not even sure he’s into men, and regardless, he’s not staying here forever. He might not even be here next month. I’m not going to attach myself to someone else that’s going to leave me,” Lucas says, and he doesn’t know if he’s trying to convince Yann or himself.

Yann’s smile drops, an apologetic look on his face. “You deserve good things, man. I know your parents left, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is going to. Just give this guy a chance. Even if nothing happens, at least be friends with him. He came up to you for a reason, right? It wasn’t for no reason."

“I know,” Lucas sighs, and he knows his friend is right, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. “What if Eliott just wanted someone to tease for a day? What if he never comes to the café again and I just look like a dumbass?”

“You’re not going to look like a dumbass, and if he really is wasting your time then you move on. No point in dwelling on someone that’s only talking to you for shits and giggles.” Lucas’ nodding along, fully aware that his best friend is right. He’s not going to get his hopes up, but he’s not going to be pessimistic either. If Eliott comes back to see him, or if he runs into him at all, then cool. If he doesn’t, there’s no point in Lucas dwelling on it; you move on.

 

***

 

Turns out Lucas had nothing to worry about.

Eliott is _always there_.

At first, Lucas thought Eliott was just living up to his promise to be there the next day. He came in the middle of a rush, so they didn’t have much time to talk, but Eliott grinning at him, clearly being happy to see him, and winking at him on his way out was enough to make Lucas’ entire day.

The next day, Eliott was there again. And the next day. And the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Two weeks hit, and Eliott had dropped in every time Lucas worked. He would sometimes stay for five minutes, sometimes would come in in a rush and leave as fast as possible, sometimes he would come in, his eyes casted towards the ground, large bags under his eyes and it seemed like there was a grey cloud over his head, his hood up like if he was trying to hide, but he never failed to leave Lucas without one of his signature smiles, and sometimes he would show up in the greatest mood, would talk Lucas’ ear off about anything and nothing for a good few minutes until Lucas willed him to sit down due to having to work, and Eliott would take a seat, whip out his laptop and type for _hours_. Eliott had clearly gotten his juice back, as he was suddenly motivated to start writing again, his fingers hitting the keys noisily in rapid succession, eyes darting back and forth as the words appeared on his screen.

Lucas thought that at first Eliott was just doing it to make him happy, until Basile came home one night after a shift, talking about how he had had the most entertaining break ever that day due to Eliott hanging out with him while Bas ate.

“He sat with you?” Lucas had questioned that day when Bas spilled the news.

“Yeah! My entire break, man, we just talked and talked. He’s such a cool dude! I’m pretty sure he’s been at the coffee shop every day since he got here.”

“You’re telling me,” Lucas had mumbled, certain that he had, but he had been completely unaware that Eliott was also going when Lucas wasn’t there.

“No, for real man, even when I’m working by myself, he’ll come. And he’s so nice! Always greets me, asks me how I’m doing, everything! He’ll even talk books with me! Honestly Lucas, you need to marry him, right now, you need to wife him up _now_.”

“Actually, mate, I don’t think that’s how it works if they’re both men,” Arthur buts in.

“Wait wait wait, okay, this might sound dumb, but how do you pick the man and the woman in the relationship?” Basile had asked, and Arthur ferociously shook his head, willing his friend to stop, but Lucas couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I don’t know, Bas, what do you do in your relationships, how do _you_ pick who’s the man and who’s the woman?” Lucas had retorted, and Yann was absolutely losing it, his body falling over the couch as he struggled to breathe air in.

“I was just asking,” Basile whined, but they weren’t hearing any of it.

So yeah, Eliott kept up his promise. He had been at Lucas’ work ever since they met, and it was stressing Lucas out, because what did this mean for _them_? Eliott was super nice to him, would buy him drinks even though Lucas can get drinks for free, would sit and read to him, would listen to Lucas read to _him_ , would stay past closing so Lucas wouldn’t have to turn the light off by himself, _and_ he got along with all of his friends? He was perfect husband material. Lucas wanted him—Lucas _wants_ him.

Does he have the confidence to make a move?

Absolutely _the fuck_ not.  


***  


It’s a Friday night, the coffee shop is emptying out, but the book shop is still booming, and Lucas is just nearing the end of his shift, desperately willing the clock to move faster with his eyes. He’s never wanted to go home as much as he wants to go home in that moment; he’s tired, absolutely exhausted, and just wants to take a nap. He had the shittiest work day ever; for one, Eliott didn’t show up, which led him to worry about whether or not Eliott was okay all day, the customers were cranky, and to top it all off, his mother was sending him more cryptic texts that he couldn’t understand, nor did he have time to analyze them. So yeah, his day wasn’t the greatest.

He clocks out the minute 17:00 hits, and he quickly grabs his stuff, barely saying goodbye to Basile before he’s out the door. He’s leaning against the wall, waiting for a taxi when a tall figure appears next to him, quickly startling him. He jumps back, heart racing, only for his heart to continue racing when he realizes who’s next to him.

“Jesus Christ, Eliott, you scared me,” he sighs, a hand to his heart. Eliott titters, tilting his head to the side in the most adorable way, and Lucas is in a good mood, suddenly. Eliott looks fine; he doesn’t look like anything’s wrong. In fact, he looks better than ever.

“Sorry, that’s not what I was trying to do,” he replies, apologetically. Lucas shrugs, clearly forgiving him. Imagine Lucas being able to stay mad at Eliott for longer than a second; it’s basically impossible.  
  
Lucas wants to ask him where he’s been, but he also doesn’t want to be too intrusive. It’s not like Eliott _has_ to come see him every day. Just because he’s been doing it before doesn’t mean that one day off is reason for panic, so instead, he settles with: “How was your day?” 

“Decent,” Eliott smiles. “I got a job, at _La Boissonière_ , had an interview earlier that I was pretty stressed about, but the interviewer was super sweet and gave me the job almost immediately, so that was nice. Then I had a burst of creativity, so I’ve been holed up at home writing all day. I was trying to make it in time before you finished, but I can see you’ve already clocked out.”

Lucas wants to cry. Only happy tears, but he seriously wants to cry, because Eliott came to see _him_. It was in his schedule. It was always going to happen today, he just lost track of time and showed up late, but Eliott was _coming_ to _see him_.

“Congrats on the job, and I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Lucas bites his lip softly, teasingly. Not too much of an obvious attempt at looking cute, but it definitely passes, as Eliott’s eyes drop down to his lips, his eyes darkening.

“Thanks. Oh, and I’m not disappointed at all, since I still managed to see you.”

They’re both just looking at each other, their silence slightly interrupted by the few cars driving by them, but the eye contact remains, and Lucas can feel his palms start to sweat. Eliott makes him so fucking nervous.

“I was—”

“Do you—”

They both speak at once, then burst into a fit of giggles, both slightly embarrassed by what just happened by the pink twinge in Eliott’s cheeks, and Lucas can definitely feel his own on fire.

“You first,” Eliott smiles.

“I just… I was going to say that I was waiting for a cab. I didn’t sleep very well last night, and I had quite a shit day.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” Eliott replies, and Lucas doesn’t notice the disappointment laced in Eliott’s voice, or in the way his eyes drop to the ground timidly.

“Yeah. Sorry you came all the way here for a five second conversation with me.”

“Those five seconds made my entire day,” Eliott smirks, and Lucas’ heart is swelling because Eliott is the sweetest man he’s ever met. He’s never been complimented, and he’s never felt loved so much in his life, but Eliott’s been in his life for such a short period of time and he’s treating him in ways he didn’t know he could be treated before.

Lucas looks away, willing his cheeks not to heat up again. “It’s a shame, though, I know I’m going to get back and the boys are going to be noisy as fuck.”

Eliott looks over at him, gnawing at his lip nervously. “You can nap at mine if you want.”

And, _what_?

Shock is clearly written all over Lucas’ face, because Eliott backtracks ridiculously fast. “I mean— you don’t have to. I just— you look like you could use some decent sleep, and I love the boys, but they can be pretty rowdy. I just meant, my apartment’s pretty quiet, if you want. You don’t have to. If you don’t want to…” Eliott trails off, and Lucas’ never seen Eliott stumble over his words or struggle to speak before. It’s endearing, and Lucas is falling for it just as hard as he’s falling for the confident Eliott he’s usually exposed to.

“You sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding at all! I’ll probably be writing for another while, I still have a few ideas I want to put down on paper.”

Lucas pretends to think about it, before he eventually caves in. “Okay.”

“Cool,” Eliott replies, and the breath he breathes out comes out shaky, like if he’s relieved. Did he really think Lucas wouldn’t want to come? Lucas doesn’t think he’d ever have the ability to ever let Eliott go now that he had him.

They talk about everything and nothing as they approach the bus stop, but the conversation cuts off as soon as they’re seated in the bus on the way to Eliott’s. Lucas’ so tired he can’t manage to listen to Eliott without his eyes slowly closing on their own, and Eliott clearly gets the message because he stops talking, leaning his head back as he looks out the window.

The bus ride to Eliott’s apartment isn’t too long, but Lucas’ so tired he dozes off. When he wakes, his head is on Eliott’s shoulder, his hair flying over his jacket. He sits up quickly, and Eliott’s biting his lip, clearly trying not to laugh at him.

“This is our stop,” Eliott speaks, standing, and Lucas drowsily stands up, following Eliott out of the bus after thanking the driver. Eliott’s laughing at him the entire walk to his apartment, and Lucas’ annoyed because what the fuck is so funny?

“Your hair,” Eliott replies, after Lucas finally asks him why he’s laughing at him so much. “It’s sticking up in different directions, it’s cute.” He lifts a hand, grabbing one strand of hair curiously, before rearranging his hair until it looks decent enough to be seen in public with. “There, all better,” he grins, and Lucas wishes Eliott could run his hands through his hair all day.

Eliott’s apartment is nice, and clearly demonstrates that Eliott is no cheap man. He’s got one gigantic leather couch sitting in the middle of the room, beautiful blankets and pillows draped over it. There’s a loveseat and a reclining chair on each side of the couch, all three facing a gigantic flatscreen television which is playing some random silent movie. It’s an open concept with the kitchen, which has a small island at the center of it, with a fridge, microwave, stove and oven, all brand new and functioning. To the right of the living room sits a fireplace, a small fire roaring inside of it. There’s a blanket and a few pillows sprawled out on the ground, a closed laptop sitting on top of one of the pillows. A piano is sitting by the window, dusty and isolated, as if it isn’t ever used, and Lucas reminds himself to check that out later. What Lucas can’t help but notice is that there are no pictures. There’s a bunch of empty frames, but none of the frames contain any pictures of family or friends, making Lucas immensely curious about what he doesn’t know about Eliott’s life. In hindsight, Lucas knows very little about who Eliott truly is. Yeah, Eliott visits him every day, and they talk, but they always talk about random shit, or about Lucas. He can’t remember one time they delved into Eliott’s life.

“Your place is nice.”

“Thanks,” Eliott grins, nodding his head towards one of the closed doors down the hall. “That one’s the bedroom.”

“Thanks,” Lucas replies, heading down the hall, but then he slows down at the door. This is weird, right? He’s sleeping in Eliott’s bed, without Eliott, and not even for the night but just to take a nap; who does that?

“It’s the one right in front of you,” Eliott speaks, probably noticing that Lucas had stopped right in front of the door, unmoving and just staring at it.

“Yeah, thanks,” Lucas replies, slowly reaching for the doorknob and opening the door. Eliott’s bedroom is not exactly like he expected it to be; he expected bare walls and dark paint, but what he walks into could top an art gallery. There is art and writing spread all over the walls. The writing is short, unfinished, as if they were ideas that could have come to light but never made it quite there. The drawings are only doodles and don’t look like much time and effort was put into them, yet they’re beautiful. To say Lucas is mesmerized is an understatement.

He approaches the bed, which is made and cleared off, and he feels like he has no idea what to do. Does he take off his pants? He usually sleeps in just his boxers, but that would be weird, right? This isn’t his house. Eliott is just a friend. That would be weird. He can’t sleep in his jeans though; they’re too uncomfortable and he’s probably dirty as fuck from work. He’s literally hovering over the bed, a hand on his zipper, having no idea what to do.

As if Eliott could read his thoughts, he knocks softly on the door. “Lucas?”

“Yeah,” Lucas replies, swinging the door open wider.

“Oh, I just wanted to tell you that there’s hoodies and sweats in those drawers, you can borrow whichever ones you prefer.”

“Thanks,” Lucas smiles thankfully. “Not just for the clothes, for letting me rest here. I’m genuinely exhausted and I know the boys would never let me rest until the late hours of the night, so… anyways. Thanks.”

Eliott grins right back at him, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s honestly okay, you’re welcome into my home whenever you want. I’ll just be down the hall writing.”

“Okay, see you later?” Lucas doesn’t know why that came out as a question, considering Eliott’s in his own apartment and couldn’t go anywhere, but he feels like he has to make sure, because he wants to know for a fact that Eliott will be here when he wakes up 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eliott replies, looking directly into Lucas’ eyes, and Lucas _knows_ he’s not just talking about tonight.

 

***

 

Lucas is disoriented when he wakes up, and it takes him a moment to remember where he is. When it clicks that he’s sleeping in Eliott’s bed, in a pair of Eliott’s sweats, he swears he can convince anyone of the fact that he felt his heart drop to his ass. He did not expect his day to end like this, and yet here he was.

Then again, he was hoping if he’d ever end up in Eliott’s bed, it would be for completely different reasons.

He checks his phone quickly, noticing multiple texts and missed calls from the boys. All the texts are the same; various ways to ask Lucas if he’s okay, where he is, if he got abducted, and blah blah. The last two texts however, the most recent ones, are from Yann, and it intrigues him, because it’s separate from the group chat the boys usually text in.  
  
**cazou**

hey man, Eliott texted Bas to tell him where you were. enjoy yourself but not too much ;)

**cazou**

and sorry about us being noisy and shit, you can always tell us when we’re being too much, and we’ll keep it down

Lucas smiles down at his phone, grateful for the amazing friends he has. He’s also extremely grateful that Arthur and Basile didn’t bombard him with teasing texts about what the hell he was doing in Eliott’s apartment.

Lucas is taking all of his time to get out of the bed, missing the warmth and the smell and comfort that Eliott’s bed brought him almost immediately. Sleeping in his bed was like receiving a giant Eliott hug, except an actual Eliott hug must be ten times better. He grabs one of Eliott’s discarded sweaters off the floor and throws it on, pretending that he didn’t just smell the fuck out of it.

He heads out into the living room and Eliott’s sitting in pure darkness, the only light coming from the fire raging in the fireplace. He’s got a sketch book on his knees, his charcoal pencil scratching away at the paper. Lucas knows Eliott hasn’t noticed him even get up.

“Got tired of writing?” Lucas asks, making Eliott jump and turn around quickly, his face morphing from fear to immediate relief when he realizes it’s only Lucas.

“Yeah, my head was starting to hurt. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Lucas replies, taking a seat on the blanket next to Eliott, tucking a pillow between his legs.

"You definitely look like you did,” Eliott chuckles, and Lucas’ confused because what is Eliott going on about?

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he chuckles, “for one, there’s a gigantic dent in your face, for two, there’s dried spit on your chin, and for three, your hair has never been as messy as it is right now.” Lucas can feel his cheeks heat up more and more as Eliott continues, because how fucking embarrassing, but Eliott doesn’t even seem to care about how distraught Lucas looks right now, instead opting to lift his hand and place it in Lucas’ hair, running his fingers gently through it until his hair looks somewhat decent, just like he had done earlier. Lucas can feel his eyes sliding shut on their own accord, so he snaps them open, pulling away playfully before wiping furiously at the dried saliva on his chin.

“Leave my hair alone,” he chuckles, running one hand through it quickly, angry over how unsatisfying it feels when it’s not Eliott’s hands.

“Force of habit?” Eliott grins.

“Sure, okay,” Lucas sighs, exasperated. He takes a glance at the clock, noticing that it’s already ten past twenty.

“I should probably go,” Lucas states, trying not to sound forced, because he definitely wants to stay a little longer and hang with Eliott some more, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome.

“Shame, I had just ordered food,” Eliott frowned, doing that thing again where he bites at his lip when he’s nervous. Lucas’ heart is swelling more and more as seconds go by.

“I guess you had me at food,” Lucas chuckled, not moving from his spot on the ground. He’s going to stay for supper, since Eliott’s just _begging_ for him to stay (which he’s not doing at all, actually. Lucas’ just weak and can’t say no to Eliott).

Eliott turns to look at him, the biggest grin on his face, and Lucas can’t even smile back because he’s completely and utterly mesmerized. The light from the fire is hitting Eliott’s face perfectly, just like the lights in the café had the first day they met, the moving light reflecting in his bright eyes. Eliott is staring right back at him, and Lucas can see his Adam’s apple move as he swallows. Eliott’s looking down at his lips, his teeth latched onto his own bottom ones, and Lucas feels as if they’re both leaning in, slowly, surely, cautiously, taking as much time as possible but wasting no time at all. The room feels small, feels like it’s just him, Eliott and this raging fire representing his insides, and it’s just them in the world. In that moment, nothing else matters. His ears are hearing but they’re not listening, and his skin is touching but not feeling, his mind only focused on the person sitting in front of him.  _Eliott. Eliott, Eliott, Eliott_. He could think about Eliott all day. He could think about that jawline, those grey eyes that hold so much, that always dart around his face when Lucas speaks, as if they’re taking in every expression, every detail of his face, and that raspy but cute voice that greets him in the mornings when Lucas just got into work or the voice that comes in in the afternoon to make Lucas’ day better, or that voice that never speaks at all, letting Lucas do all the talking for the both of them. He could think about that _smile_. The smile that could make him happier than he is, the smile that can clear away any anger or sadness he’s feeling, the smile that heals him every day.

Lucas learned the hard way that he had to be there for himself. His mother wasn’t fit enough to be there for him, his father didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, and his friends _cared_ , but they could only do so much to make Lucas feel better. Lucas would smile, and laugh, and have fun with his friends, but there was always a _weight_. It was always in the back of his head: it’s _temporary_. They’re here for you now, but eventually, they won’t be there anymore. They’ll move on with their lives. They’ll fall in _love_. They’ll have _families_. You’re going to be _miserable_. You’re _never_ going to fall in love. You’re going to be _stuck_. You’ve been stuck ever since your parents _left_.

That’s why when Eliott stumbles into his life, and Lucas can go days without ever doubting his friends, can go days without being sad or wanting to lock himself in his room and never come out, can go days without feeling it, feeling that _weight_ , it says a lot. It says a lot about Eliott’s role in Lucas’ life. He doesn’t want to rely on Eliott to fix him, to use him as a way to fix his pain, to fill the void he has from his parents; no, he wants Eliott to make him forget that the void was ever even there. Eliott is a new, fresh presence in his life, that came in it for the better. He doesn’t want to ever use him. He wants to cherish every single day, every single _minute_ he has with him, because those moments, they’re infinite. They’re a picture, a frozen frame. Their moments are what Lucas wants to capture and keep with him, to infinity. 

So he wants to kiss him. Not just because there’s “tension” between them, not just because Eliott’s cute, not just because he’s the first guy that seems to be interested in him, but because Eliott’s sitting in the light, Lucas is sitting in the dark, and he has to face his fears and cross over to the other world if he wants to reach the happiness he truly deserves.

Time has stopped, and they’re looking at each other, their noses about an inch or two away from touching, and Lucas thinks, _this is it_. That moment people read about in the books, or cry over in the movies, it’s happening, and Lucas isn’t prepared.

Then Eliott’s nose twitches.

Then Eliott frowns.

Suddenly, he leans back, turning his head, and Lucas’ heart sinks, he wants to get up, he wants to leave, he wants to hide in a corner, he wants to hide under a blanket, because he misread everything, didn’t he? He couldn’t reach the happiness he deserves. It doesn’t exist.

Lucas is on the verge of bolting, when Eliott opens his mouth wide, and—sneezes?

Lucas can’t even hide the shock, confusion and absolute disappointment in his face as Eliott giggles uncontrollably, profusely apologizing for fucking _sneezing_. If any moment in Lucas’ life was going to be abruptly interrupted, it wasn’t going to be by the boys, or by his parents showing up, or anything crazy, it would be because of a fucking _sneeze_.

“Bless you?” It comes out as a question, because Lucas is so _fucking_ confused right now.

“Thanks,” Eliott chuckles, looking down at his hands, a huge grin still on his face, and Lucas wants to throw himself off the nearest balcony because the vibe is completely different now. He can’t just fucking lean in again. That tension isn’t _there_ anymore. He needs a distraction, and he needs one now.

His eyes fall on Eliott’s sketchbook, and he pauses, trying to take a peek at what he was drawing before Lucas woke up.

“What’s that?” Lucas nods his head towards the book, and Eliott picks it up, proudly showing him what he came up with.

“Is that a badger?” Lucas frowns, and Eliott’s never looked more offended in his life.

“A badger? It’s a racoon. It’s my spirit animal.”

“The racoon is your spirit animal?”

“Racoons are wicked! They wear masks too.”

Lucas smiles, because he loves seeing Eliott get excited over even the smallest things.  “Well, if you had to draw me as a spirit animal which one would you pick?”

Eliott turns to look at him, twisting his lip in thought. His eyes are darting all over his face, and Lucas wants to shrink from the strength of Eliott’s stare.

“I’d have to think about it.”

Before Lucas can answer, there’s a ring at the door. Eliott jumps up, heading for the door to get their food while Lucas watches.

“Hopefully you like crepes because that’s what I got,” Eliott declares on his way back.

“Of course,” Lucas smiles as Eliott comes back to join him on the blanket, whipping out two plates and popping open the container containing the crepes. They eat quite loudly, Lucas recounting Eliott old stories about the foolishness him and the boys get into on a daily basis, while Eliott nods along, listening and enjoying every moment of it. Lucas wants to ask Eliott more about his life, but he’s afraid of the response. He doesn’t want Eliott to close himself off; he wants Eliott to be comfortable enough to tell him things on his own.

“I used to do stupid shit like that,” Eliott chimes in.

“Really?"

“Yeah,” Eliott continues. “I have these two friends back home; Sofiane and Idriss, we used to stroll the streets of Paris going literally insane. We almost got arrested for disturbance of peace.”

“Ha! What the fuck were you guys up to,” Lucas chuckles, shoving a crepe in his mouth.

“Just a lot of dumb shit. I never got away with it though, especially with Lucille up my ass all the time. 

Lucas frowns, because this is the first time he’s heard about any of these people, and his curiosity is through the roof. “Who’s Lucille?”

“My ex.” _Oh_. So Eliott had an ex. “She was a pain in my ass,” Eliott continues. “She treated me like I was sick, or like if I was a child all the time. Pissed me off.”

“Why would she do that?” Lucas questioned, because it didn’t make any sense; what kind of person treats their significant other that way?

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Broke up with her as soon as I started _really_ getting into my writing. She didn’t motivate me at all either; every time I would write she would complain that I wouldn’t spend time with her. She was the worst.”

Lucas took in the information slowly, trying to process as much as he could all at once. Eliott had this entire story back in Paris, and Lucas was getting bits of it, slowly but surely. That meant Eliott was starting to trust him.

“Well, for what it’s worth, even though I don’t know much about the books you write, I can guarantee you’re probably a brilliant writer.”

There’s a pause as Eliott looks down at his hands, before slowly looking up at Lucas, an indecipherable look on his face. “Lucas, you’re honestly the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

Lucas inhales sharply, his heart doing that _thing_ again where it starts to race faster and his whole body feels hundreds of degrees hotter, his hands are shaking, and the butterflies in his stomach are on acid, going absolutely bonkers in there.

Lucas doesn’t answer because he has no idea what to say. He never knew how to handle compliments in the past, but for them to come from the man he may or may not be fully infatuated with? His nerves are wracked.

Suddenly, the piano in the corner of the room is attracting his attention, and he gets up, walking over to it and dragging his fingers through the different keys. “You play?”

“I know a butchered rendition of _Für Elise_ , so I don’t think that counts,” Eliott chuckles. “Other than that, I know how to play the _Star Wars_ theme song, but I don’t want to impress you too much.”

Lucas chuckles, taking a seat in front of the piano. He hits the first four keys he remembers and hears Eliott chuckle behind him.

“I have a triangle too, if you want one,” Eliott laughs, and Eliott’s mocking him, but that’s fine, because when Lucas hits the four keys again, speeds up, and then gets into the song he _really_ was trying to play, there is complete silence behind him.

With every key, Lucas tries to push off every emotion he’s feeling. There is irony in the fact that the song he’s playing is called _I Love You_ , yet he is nowhere near able to say these words out loud, nor does he know when he will ever be able to say them again. The last time those words came out were with his mother, and they never came out again since she left. He doesn’t love Eliott yet; love is a big word, love holds so much. He can’t _say_ it; not yet, not now, but what he _can_ do, is hope that Eliott is understanding the emotions he’s trying to convey through the music. He’s pouring his heart and soul without saying anything at all. He’s opening himself up to Eliott, letting Eliott see all of him, read all of him, understand all of him, without having to physically show him. He’s vulnerable, exposed, but the strongest he’s ever been.

The song tapers off at the end and it’s quiet in the room. Lucas can hear Eliott’s breathing from the floor, and it’s stressing him out, because he’s never _played_ like that before. He’s played before, but he’s never felt so much all at once just from playing the piano, so he’s too afraid to turn around, too afraid to see the look in Eliott’s eyes.

“Wow,” he hears, breathless, quiet, and he turns around slowly. Eliott is looking at him, and for the first time, Lucas feels like he can read him. Lucas genuinely feels like he knows exactly what Eliott’s feeling, and what he’s seeing is powerful, intense admiration for Lucas. That’s all he sees.

“That was amazing,” Eliott continues, biting his bottom lip nervously, but he doesn’t look nervous at all. He looks surer of himself than he ever has. “You’re surprising.” He pauses, then: “I like people who surprise me.”

And there it is, isn’t it? That’s the cue Lucas was waiting for. Eliott was hard to read; an enigma, per se, but in this moment, Lucas could read all of him, and in this moment,  he knew that what him and Eliott had was strong, it was stronger than any of Eliott’s previous relationships, it was stronger than Lucas’ years-old friendships, it was stronger than time itself.

Lucas doesn’t answer Eliott, for two reasons. For one, he has no idea what the fuck to tell him, and two, because his phone pings in his pocket which momentarily distracts him. However, when he reads the text Yann sent him, he wishes he had just turned his phone off and lived in the _now_.

“I, uh—” he swallows, taking a deep breath. “I have to go.”

Eliott frowns immediately, concern taking over every single feature on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I have to go home,” Lucas replies, and he’s willing his voice not to shake, he’s trying not to cry, he’s trying to keep his hands from shaking.

“The bus isn’t running anymore, I’ll wait for a cab outside with you,” Eliott offers, but Lucas shakes his head aggressively, standing up quickly.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay,” Lucas insists, quickly walking to the door to shove his shoes on. Eliott is following him, panic written all over his face. Lucas turns after he’s got his shoes on, and he doesn’t _want_ to leave; in fact, in moments like these, he wishes he was nowhere but in Eliott’s bed, preferably with Eliott’s strong arms wrapped around him.

“I will text you as soon as I get home,” Lucas tells Eliott, and he’s not lying. He knows he’s going to need it.

“Is it something I said? Or did?” Eliott asks, and he’s running the tips of his fingers across his bottom lip nervously. Lucas shakes his head severely, upset that Eliott would even think for one second that he had upset Lucas.

“Not at all, not at _all_. You’ve been great, all night, this might have been one of the best nights of my life. I just… I have to go deal with something at home.”

Eliott nods but he doesn’t seem fully convinced. “Do you work tomorrow?” And Lucas doesn’t, but he still wants to see Eliott tomorrow regardless.

“I don’t, but if you want we can grab a coffee tomorrow, just chill?”

“Of course,” Eliott smiles, before his face morphs into— _something_ , and suddenly Lucas can’t read him anymore, can’t tell what Eliott’s feeling, but he doesn’t say anything, because Eliott lifts a hand, running it softly through Lucas’ hair, nods to himself, and takes a step back, giving room for Lucas to step out.

“Good night, Eliott.”

“Good night, Lucas. I’ll see you tomorrow." 

Lucas’ hands are shaking the entire way down the stairs, into the street, in the taxi and on the way back home. He had one of the best days ever; he had never felt more alive, more loved. That void was inexistent, in just the few hours that he had spent with Eliott, and nothing felt better than that. _Nothing._

He wishes he had just ignored Yann’s text. He wishes he would have just ignored his problems, even if just for the night. He wishes he would have returned to the bed, wrapping himself up in his favorite smells, in the warmth of the most caring, genuine, loving man he had ever met.

He wishes he would have stayed with Eliott.

 

***

 

**cazou**

your dad’s here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say how grateful and loved I'm feeling over all of your lovely comments. They are the most motivating thing ever and push me to keep writing, so thank you. So much.


	4. Miss you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> This chapter is shorter than usual, but I've got a decent amount of stuff planned for the next one, so the next one is definitely going to be much longer, and I found that where I stopped it was the perfect place to end it, so. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your wonderful comments! They absolutely make my day and push me to keep going. Thank you thank you thank you!!
> 
> Enjoy!

His father’s car is in the driveway when he gets home, and he _really_ doesn’t want to go inside. Why the fuck would his dad be here right now? He usually texts or calls before he comes, but he didn’t even give Lucas a heads up.

Yann is sitting on the steps outside of the house, waiting for Lucas to arrive. When Yann spots him, he stands up abruptly, coming up to Lucas and putting both hands on his shoulders.

“Listen, we gotta talk before you go in there,” Yann starts, and Lucas is shaking his head, because _no_. At this point, he doesn’t even want to hear it. He just wants to get in there, hear what his dad has to say, and then send him back out the door. “No, Lucas, you have to hear me out, it’s not good.”

“Yann, I don’t give a fuck, I just want to get it over with,” Lucas snaps, and Yann lets him go, reminding Lucas that he’s been warned. Lucas pushes past him, swinging the door open. His father’s sitting on the kitchen island, his hands laced in front of him as he stares up at Lucas, an indecipherable look on his face. Lucas wants to scream at him, tell him to get the fuck out, go to his room, hide under the blankets and never come back out, but he knows he has to face his dad. He knows he has to, because if his dad came, he has to have something important to say. Nothing else would make sense.

Lucas steps further into the kitchen, ready to greet his father in the nicest way he could muster up, when he realizes his father’s not alone. A young woman, probably in her early thirties, is sitting next to him, a woman Lucas has never seen before. An even younger girl, probably five or so, is sitting next to the woman, half-asleep on the table.

Lucas can read the situation almost immediately, but he doesn’t say anything. He wants to hear his dad _say_ it.

“Lucas, it’s good to see you,” his dad moves to get up, coming around the island where Lucas is. He pulls Lucas into a hug, but Lucas doesn’t move, his arms falling limp next to his father.

“What are you doing here?” Lucas asks the minute his father pulls back. The woman on the island gets up as well, coming around. She holds out her hand, a sincere smile on her face.

“I’m Anne-Marie.” He looks down at her hand, blinks once, twice, just enough for her face to twist into a face of dismay and for her hand to slowly drop.

“Lucas, don’t be rude,” Lucas’ father scolds, and _no_ , his father has no right to act like an actual dad right now.

“What,” he starts, enunciating every word. “Are, you, doing, here?”

His father sighs, looking down at his feet. “I had something to tell you.”

“Tell me and then go.”

His father looks to his right, reaching for the woman’s hand, and _there it is_. “I wanted to introduce you to my fiancé." 

Lucas hates swimming. He knows how, but he tries to avoid it as much as possible, because one of his biggest fears is drowning. He can’t imagine being stuck underwater, no air filling his lungs, struggling to fight back to the surface but being unable to coordinate your body enough or not being able to get out of whatever whirlpool you’re stuck in. He can’t imagine having to succumb to the pits of the ocean, letting water fill his lungs until his eyes close. The thought alone could give him intense anxiety.

He doesn’t know what drowning feels like, but in this moment, he’s sure that what he’s feeling could compare perfectly to the feeling of drowning. His chest is constricted; he feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t think, he can’t speak. He’s frozen on the spot, his chest heaving as he tries to take in gulps of air, but he can’t get his body to relax. His hands are shaking, but he can’t get them to stop, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to vomit at any given moment.

“How _dare_ you,” he barely spits out, a hand to his chest as he looks at his father in disgust. “You’re not even fucking _divorced_. Mom is _sick_ , and you’re getting fucking married?”

“I finalized the papers last week. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to be able to tell you in person.”

“You finalized the papers without mom?”

“She signed the papers, Lucas. I guess she agrees that she’s been a burden on my life for too long, and she agreed to sign. I am still paying the clinic for her cares, but I have no other ties to her apart from that.”

“A _burden_? She didn’t choose to be mentally ill. It was out of her control. How dare you say she’s been a _burden_ on your life when you haven’t even been taking care of her for all these years! _I have_! I fucking raised myself and took care of her all at the same time! The only thing you did was use your rich man money to pay for her cares because you couldn’t be home to take care of her yourself, because you were out fucking _her_!” Lucas points angrily to Anne-Marie, and he can see the spit coming out with every word he utters, and his hands are shaking, his body’s on fire, his vision isn’t clear and he’s _angry_. Angry at his father for doing this to him and his mother. Angry at Anne-Marie for being in his father’s life. Angry at his mother for signing those papers and ever thinking she’s a burden. Angry at himself, for not fighting more to keep this from happening.

His dad says nothing. Anne-Marie says nothing. The young girl at the counter, presumably Anne-Marie’s daughter, is staring back at Lucas, her big, brown eyes showing confusion and fear. Lucas momentarily feels pity; she’s so young. She doesn’t know what’s going on. It’s not her fault.

He turns back to his father. “Get out,” he spits. “Get the _fuck_ out of this house. _My_ house. You can take your fiancée, and your papers, your new child, and get the fuck out of my house because I have no more ties to you. You are not my father; you never were. I have been taking care of myself since I was young and trust me when I say I will continue to do so without your help.”

“Lucas, pleas—”

“Get out!” he hollers, and he can see Anne-Marie jump back, he can hear the child at the table start to cry, but he doesn’t stay any longer to see anything else. He turns on his heel, stomps into his room and slams the door behind him.

He’s in bed, the covers thrown over his head, and he can hear Yann gently tell his father that it’s best if he leaves. He hears the front door shut, he hears the car back out of his driveway and drive away, and it’s when he knows his dad’s gone for good that he finally lets himself break down, lets the sobs and the cries come out of his body.

No one enters his room for the rest of the night, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

 ***

A knock. “Lucas, I’m coming in.”

A swing of the door. “This is becoming unbearable, Jesus Christ. Look at your fucking room. And it reeks.”

A dip in the bed. “Are you really gonna stay in bed for weeks? I’ve only seen you get out of the bed to piss, grab food and come back. You need to go outside.”

A hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been getting crazy emails about assignments, and Bas’ dad can only be flexible for so long. You’re going to have to get out eventually.”

“Let him fire me,” Lucas croaks from beneath his mountain of blankets, and Arthur sighs.

“Dude, trust me, he does not want to fire you. He’s just worried about you.”

“Tell him I’m fine.”

“But you’re clearly not,” Arthur argues, and Lucas doesn’t reply, because Arthur’s right. He’s not fine. He’s _far_ from fine. What is he supposed to say though?

“You haven’t left the house since your dad came, and that was almost two weeks ago. In fact, I haven’t seen you get out of bed much. I know you’re upset about what happened, but locking yourself in your room is not going to change his mind, okay? You need to stop sulking and get up.”

Lucas doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t move either. He doesn’t want to get out of bed. He could stay here for another month. He’s not ready.

Arthur gets up wordlessly, frustration evident in his stomps, but Lucas doesn’t budge.

“We’re having people over tonight,” Arthur calls. “You can keep sulking in your bed or you can come out and socialize, it’s up to you, I’m not forcing you, but in my humble opinion, I think it’s time you get the fuck up, because your mother wouldn’t want this from you.”

The door shuts, and Lucas buries his face in his pillow, the tears threatening to spill out again.

His best friend was right, he had to get out of bed, but he couldn’t. He was so weak, his throat dry from his lack of speaking and his body sore from how long he’s been laying down, unmoving. The pain from his father’s actions was still engrained in his heart, making him feel like he had been underwater for weeks, struggling for some air, but not quite making it to the surface.

He grabs his phone from his bedside table. It’s off, from not having been looked at for weeks. His heart is racing as it turns on, and his heart drops when his notifications start coming through. He first looks through the three texts from his mom, fear settling in his chest.

 

**maman**

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the _Lord_ your God will be with you wherever you go.”  
Joshua 1:9  
  
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  
Romans 8:28

I love you, my son. Do not envy your father; he was doing what he believed best for the family. I signed the papers because I did not want to disappoint him or myself; he is no longer happy with me, and for that I understand. I have you; that is all I need. You and the Lord.

 

Lucas can feel the tears streaming down his face as he hovers his fingers over the keyboard, wanting to reply but not knowing what to say. His mother loves him, and he loves her, but will he still love her when he tells her the whole truth about himself?

He never came out to his mother. In fact, he came out to everyone but her; he was going to come out to her after coming out to his father, until his dad told him it was a bad idea and would probably lead his mother into an episode. Lucas, young, scared and not fully educated on his mother’s sickness, took his dad’s words as truth and never came out.

His mother was also very religious, and he knew being gay in religion was considered a sin. Would his mom look at him as a sinner? Would she never speak to him again? Her texts to him always made him anxious, and it stressed him out, having to decode what each of them meant, but he’d rather get texts from her than not get anything at all.

So, he decides not to tell her now. His mother is probably under a lot of stress, and so is he. He doesn’t want to add anything else, so he settles for a heart, and exits out of their conversation. He then checks the next few messages he has in his phone, and his heart sinks when he sees the contact name. He has eight new messages, and they’re all from Eliott, dating back from the day after they hung out until now.

 

**eliott(:**

hey, I know you said you were going to text me when you got home, but you haven’t and it’s been two days now, and you haven’t been at work, is everything okay?

got some more work done on my book :) think I could read it to you sometime?

boys told me you were okay and at home, think I could come by later? Hang out for a bit?

No one’s telling me what’s going on. Can you please answer? So I know you’re good?

Is it something I did? Whatever it is, I want to talk through it

It’s been a whole week of radio silence, Lucas. I drink my coffees cold and alone. Shop’s boring without you. Basile is a lot of fun, but, he’s not you.

You haven’t answered in two weeks, so I’m not going to keep sending you messages. I’m still here, and I’ll still be here for a while, because my book’s nowhere near done. If ever you want to talk, I’m here. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. I don’t know if it’s something I did or something else that’s going on, because no one is telling me anything, and I’m not pushing because it’s not my business, but I do care about you. I know it’s early, I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I do, care about you. And want you to be okay.

miss you.

 

The last two texts were sent last night, along with a few missed calls from him, and Lucas wants to cry. He promised Eliott to text him when he got home, the night after his dad came, and he never did. He was too busy drowning in his sorrows to at least let Eliott know he was okay, the guy that had showed so much care for him and had kept him happy for the past month.

He doesn’t type out a reply to Eliott because he’s a coward, and also because he doesn’t want Eliott to see him at his weakest. It would push him away. He knows it would.

He rereads Eliott’s texts in the darkness of his bedroom, a slight smile making his way onto his face, knowing that even if he wasn’t okay, at least Eliott was, and despite how messy and sad he was, Eliott had still worried about him. He missed him, a lot, but he couldn’t dare let Eliott get wrapped up in Lucas’ messy life. His dad coming was a wakeup call that no matter how much he wanted to be happy and move on from the mess that is his family life, he was unable to. It was always going to be following him, behind him, like a raincloud that won’t budge.

***

Lucas’ sad few weeks didn’t mean his friends weren’t allowed to have fun without him, but this was fucking _ridiculous_.

Lucas’ awoken by music blaring from loud-ass speakers, definitely coming from the living room. He can make out multiple voices, laughing, screaming, singing along to the music, and Arthur had told Lucas that people were coming over, but did they have to be so damn loud?

Lucas grabs his phone, sending a quick text to Yann. _Turn it down please._

He waits ten minutes for a reply that never comes, and now he’s angry. His friends know he’s in a bad mood, they know he needs peace and quiet, why the fuck would they come throw a rager at their home? They could do it anywhere but he.

Lucas angrily jumps out of the bed, throwing a quick blanket over his head before swinging his door open. He first heads for the bathroom, but it’s occupied. The lights in the hallways are off, the only lights on being the ones in the kitchen and some fairy lights that had been strung up around the living room, probably brought in from the café by the boys, or from the girls who most likely decorate their rooms with them. As he makes it to the entry way of the living room, he can see Basile sitting in the living room, Daphné next to him. Alexia and Arthur are dancing in the middle, stealing kisses from each other and giggling wildly. Manon’s voice can be heard from the kitchen, along with a few other voices he doesn’t recognize, and that’s when Lucas realizes that there are many other faces sitting in his living room or dancing that he doesn’t personally know. He’s aware of the other young adults in Sulniac, but for them to end up at his house? He was confused.

He stalks to the living room, where Manon’s pouring herself a drink while Yann is talking to her. Lucas can’t focus on what Yann’s saying, heading straight for him. When Yann notices he’s there, he grins, throwing an arm around Lucas.

"Hey! You came out of your nest!”

Lucas shoves him off, crossing his arm across his chest, his blanket enveloping him. “What’s going on?”

Yann shrugs. “We wanted to have a few people over.”

“A few?” Lucas frowns, glancing around. “Some of these faces I don’t even recognize.”

“Oh come on, we know most of these people, just not well. Everyone just wanted to come have a good time.”

“That’s nice, and all, but could you take it elsewhere? Please? I’m trying to sleep.”

Yann frowns, giving a look to Manon, who grabs her drink before leaving the room. Yann then turns to him. “Lucas, you’ve been ‘sleeping’ for two weeks. I know you’re upset about your dad bu—”

“No,” Lucas cuts him off, putting a hand up. “I don’t want to hear it. Please, just get these people out. You guys can continue to party but do it elsewhere.”

“Lucas,” Yann groans. “This is getting ridiculous. I _know_ you’re upset. I just want you to be better. There is no reason for everyone to leave just because you’re not doing okay. I would understand a few days after what happened, but it’s been _two weeks_.”

“Yann please,” Lucas begs, because he’s now on the verge of tears and he just wants some goddamn peace and quiet. “Please. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll try to get it together, but right now, in this moment, I _need_ quiet. Please.”

Yann looks at him, and Lucas knows he doesn’t believe him, knows that he’s still going to be lying in bed all day the next day, but he doesn’t push it. He nods, and Lucas thanks him, before Yann walks away from him, announcing to the guests in the living room. Lucas breathes out a sigh of relief, grabbing a glass and quickly pouring himself some water, downing it auickly to moisten up his dry throat, before heading back down for his bedroom. On his way back, the bathroom door swings open, hitting his side and for fuck’s sake, whoever built this house wasn’t thinking when they didn’t make that door open inwards to the bathroom.

“Fuck, sorry!” Lucas hears, and he feels his heart drop to his ass, because Eliott is standing in front of him, a guilty look on his face. He can see the moment Eliott registers it’s Lucas, because his face morphs from guilt to shock, then confusion, then sadness.

“Lucas?” he asks, and Lucas just looks down at his feet, because he can’t look at him. He can’t see the disappointment in Eliott’s face over the fact that Lucas has been radio silent for the past two weeks.

“The party’s moving,” Lucas mumbles, not looking up. “I’m not sure where they’re going, but, Yann’s getting everyone out, so…”

He hears Eliott swallow. “Okay.”

Lucas looks up, then, because he needs to see him. He needs to see the man that he’s missed so dearly over the past few weeks. He’s got his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip in that nervous way he usually does, and he’s looking straight at Lucas, as if he wants to say something but is looking for the right words.

“Do you—”

“How are—”

They speak at the same time once more, and it brings him back to the last time that happened, and he can’t help but smile. “You go first,” Eliott chuckles.

“I was going to ask how you were doing.”

“I’m okay,” Eliott replies, his lips twisting, as if he’s trying not to smile too big. “It’s good to see you, it’s good to see you smile.”

This is when Lucas’ wall crumbles, because he had been trying so hard to push this man away, to convince himself that it was for the best that he never saw his messages, but the reality was Eliott _cared_ about him. He didn’t just pretend he did, he really did. It could be seen in the way his eyes darted all over Lucas’ face and body, making sure he wasn’t hurt or injured in any way. It could be seen in the way his hands twitched forward, as if they ached to reach for Lucas, but stopped himself.

“Stay?” Lucas blurts, and he’s trying so hard, _so hard_ , to keep his emotions at bay, but his voice cracks and Eliott’s face drops, and Lucas knows that Eliott has realized just how not okay Lucas really is.

Eliott nods, and Lucas caves. He grabs Eliott’s lower arm, dragging him into his bedroom. As soon as the door is closed behind him, he throws himself at Eliott, wrapping his arms around his waist as his face buries itself in Eliott’s neck. Eliott reacts quickly, throwing one arm around Lucas’ neck, the other cradling the back of his head, and Lucas lets himself cry. His tears are staining Eliott’s t-shirt as he sobs into his shirt, his whole body shaking.

He might regret this later. Right now, though, all he needed was Eliott.


	5. Promise you won't treat me any differently, ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Reflection from the Black Mirror: Nosedive episode really was a good mood for this chapter.
> 
> Thank you for all your lovely comments and kudos, truly meant the world!
> 
> Sorry if there are any mistakes! I'm half asleep lol

“I’m sorry,” Lucas mutters into Eliott’s chest, later on that night, when they’re lying down, his head pressed into Eliott’s chest as Eliott’s arm wraps around him securely. Eliott’s got one of Lucas’ hands in the other, and he’s cradling it softly, slowly dragging his thumb on the back of Lucas’ hand.

“For what?” Eliott questions, and Lucas looks up at him. Eliott’s already looking back down at him, his face filled with many emotions at once; sadness, empathy, confusion.

“For not answering your calls or texts. I promised to text you, but I just… I couldn’t.”

“Lucas,” Eliott sighs, looking back up at the ceiling. “I don’t care. I didn’t want you to rush to tell me what was going on. I should be the one apologizing for bombarding you with so many messages. I should have taken the hint that in that moment, you didn’t want to talk. You weren’t ready at the time, so I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

Lucas is silent, because he doesn’t know how to reply. How does he tell Eliott that he was more than grateful for the texts? How does he tell Eliott that the texts reassured Lucas that even after ghosting him, Eliott still cared about his wellbeing?

He opts to say nothing instead, because now’s not the time for him to embarrass himself.

“I’m sorry about that too,” he utters. Eliott looks back down at him again.

“For what?”

“For not telling you what was going on, and for still not telling you now. I’m just not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet.”

“It’s okay, Lucas, I swear. You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m just grateful you’re okay.”

They sit in silence for Lucas doesn’t know how long. It could have been a few minutes, it could have been a few hours, but Lucas can’t remember because in that time that they sit in silence, he passes out to Eliott’s gentle hands, Eliott’s heartbeat a steady rhythm in his head that lulls him to sleep.

***

He wakes up again in the middle of the night to an empty bed. The light in his room is off, except for the soft lamp by the side of his bed. The alarm clock next to it reads 2:02. He doesn’t know why he’s up so suddenly, but now he’s wide awake.

When he turns to face the window, he spots Eliott is sitting on the floor, leaning against it. He’s got his phone settled horizontally in his hands, a stylus in his hand. His hand is moving fluidly across the screen, his tongue poking out from the corner of his lip in concentration.

“Hey,” Lucas croaks, and Eliott looks up, a small smile making his way onto his face.

“Why are you up?” Eliott questions. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t, I’m wide awake now.” He pauses. “What are you drawing?”

“Nothing,” Eliott clears his throat, locking his phone and shoving it and the stylus in his pocket. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You look exhausted,” Lucas states, noticing the heavy purple bags under Eliott’s eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he shrugs, standing up from his spot and settling back on the bed next to Lucas. They lie down in silence for a bit, until Lucas suddenly sits up. 

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Eliott sits up next to him, confusion written all over his face. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Lucas shrugs. “The boys keep telling me to go outside. I haven’t breathed fresh air in a minute, and I’m more than wide awake right now. Let’s go for a walk.”

Eliott’s clearly confused; Lucas can see it in the way his nose is scrunched up, his eyebrows drawn together, but Lucas isn’t changing his mind. Lucas raises a finger, placing it inbetween his eyebrows, moving his finger vigorously until Eliott stops frowning. Eliott laughs, pushing his hand off.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. “Let’s go, then.”

*** 

They’re walking around aimlessly through Sulniac, no actual destination picked. Their arms keep bumping as they walk, and it sends chills up Lucas’ arms and through his body; chills that he ignores.

He’s got his hood over his head and a scarf around his neck and yet his body is still shaking profusely. He doesn’t know if it’s from the stress of his father’s mistakes, the fear of having to eventually tell Eliott what’s been going on with him—not because he has to, but because he wants to— or if it’s Eliott’s presence next to him, but he can’t keep his body relaxed and it’s pissing him off.

“Are you okay?” Eliott asks, clearly noticing how anxious Lucas is, but not mentioning too much.

“Yeah,” Lucas sighs. “I mean, no, but I will be.”

They walk in silence for a bit, Lucas silently convincing himself to just tell Eliott what’s been going on, but he can’t get the words to form themselves. What if Eliott looks at him differently when he learns everything about his family? What if he thinks Lucas has too much baggage and decides that he doesn’t want to deal with any of it?

They take a break, settling on a bench facing a small pond. They sit in silence for a while, just taking in the quiet atmosphere around them. Eliott has his eyes shut, his head thrown back as the wind blows in his hair. Lucas can’t stop looking at him; he’s gorgeous.

“My dad’s engaged,” Lucas blurts, and Eliott’s head shoots back up as he turns to look at him. Eliott doesn’t say anything, urging Lucas to continue.

“He’s… engaged, to this woman, which I’m pretty sure he cheated on my mom with.” Lucas takes a deep breath, quickly moistening his lips. “My mom’s been in a clinic for a few years now. She’s mentally ill. I had to take care of her when I was younger, because my dad was never there. When he decided it was too much for him, he took off with her to Paris, leaving me to fend for myself here. He sent me money, but that was it. He dropped her off at the clinic, payed her hospital bills, and left. Now he filed for divorce, had the divorce granted, and he’s getting married again. His perfect little family,” he laughs bitterly. “The wife and the young daughter, both healthy. He’s abandoning my mom and I again, just like he did a few years ago. I can’t handle it, Eliott. It hurts so bad.”

Eliott doesn’t say anything, but he does throw his arms around Lucas, enveloping him in a tight hug. Lucas has cried so much that no tears are coming anymore, but he can feel his heart break the longer Eliott hugs him.

“Your dad’s a fucking asshole,” Eliott mutters, tightening his arms around him, and Lucas can’t help but hug back tighter, because this is exactly what he needed. He needed Eliott’s warmth and comfort more than anything in the world, and he was giving it to him. Lucas couldn’t have asked for more.

They pull away from each other, not too close but not too far either, and Eliott’s hands are softly cradling Lucas’ jaw. Eliott’s grey eyes are piercing into his soul, as if his whole being is being exposed to him at once, but Lucas can’t look away. He’s too mesmerized to look anywhere but at Eliott.

“You deserve so much,” Eliott says, and Lucas has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying. _Goddammit, how the fuck am I still able to cry?_ “Your dad is a fucking asshole who walked away on the two most important people in his life. That’s on him. Do not let yourself sink into a hole of darkness just because your dad is irresponsible. _Your_ life is amazing. I mean, you had to raise yourself _and_ your mother and look where you’re at! You live in _your_ house, you’re studying law, you’re making your money… you’re set. Don’t let your father’s idiotic mistakes stop you from succeeding. _I_ won’t allow it and you shouldn’t either." 

Lucas, as always, is rendered speechless by Eliott, who cares so fiercely for him it’s insane. Lucas doesn’t deserve him.

He raises his hands, placing them on top of Eliott’s hands, and drops his head into his chest, taking in a deep breath. He takes a few more, his breaths syncing with Eliott’s; slow, relaxed, deep. He takes a few more, as Eliott drops a soft kiss on his head.

He’s been drowning for the past two weeks. He’s been unable to reach the surface. Then Eliott held his arm out, ready to pull him out.

And he did. He pulled him out. Lucas can breathe again.

***

Lucas wakes up in the morning, and he doesn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is being sat in the living room with Eliott, an old, silent film playing on the tv, while Eliott held his phone in his hands, his stylus still gliding against his screen. Eliott had refused to show him the drawing, and Lucas had fallen asleep curious.

When he wakes up, he’s not in the living room, he’s in bed. Alone.

He reaches for his phone, sitting on the bedside table. He doesn’t have a single notification except for a few emails from the university, reminding him of impending deadlines. He lifts his head up, expecting a note from Eliott, but there’s nothing there, and Lucas tries hard not to be disappointed.

His brain is still a bit hazy when he gets up, slowly processing the events of the night before. He had gone for a walk with Eliott and told him everything; told him about his sick mother, his asshole of a father. It then processed in Lucas’ brain that he had woken up alone. Eliott probably left, realizing that Lucas was handling way too much and understanding that he couldn’t carry his own life and Lucas’ at the same time.

Sighing, he gets out of bed, shoving on his slides before stumbling onto the living room. There’re hushed voices coming from the kitchen, along with a smell so divine Lucas could have drooled. 

When he enters the kitchen, his best friends are all sat around the table, minus Basile, their heads in their hands, while they eat their cereal slowly, their faces contorting with disgust.

“I swear, dude, I might vomit,” Arthur mutters, letting a large burp come out. Lucas bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, because his friends are clearly hungover, and are just barely recovering. That’s what he loved about missing nights out; he didn’t have to do the whole recovery part in the morning, and that thought alone was enough to keep him inside. Of course, this situation wasn’t the same, but the point still stands.

He tumbles into the kitchen, and Arthur and Yann’s head snap towards him in shock, as if a ghost had just entered. Lucas rolls his eyes, grinning at his friends.

“I’m alive,” he chuckles, walking towards the fridge to grab himself a glass of milk.

“Dude! How are you feeling?” Arthur asks, getting up to envelop Lucas in a big hug. Lucas can’t help but hug back, having missed the comfort of his best friends.

“I’m okay,” Lucas replies, and Yann stands too, wrapping his arms around him as well. Lucas knows they probably look foolish, enwrapped in a giant group hug, but Lucas’ never felt happier. He really needed this; after days spent alone, affection was all he needed.

“Dude, we’re so glad you’re up. We’ve missed you,” Arthur says, pulling away and settling back in front of his cereal bowl.

“I’ve missed you guys too,” Lucas replies, taking a seat in the stool in front of them. He takes a gulp in front of him, scanning the kitchen and the living room, until his eyes fall on an unfamiliar object. It’s a phone, but it doesn’t belong to any of them.

“Hey guys,” Lucas speaks, interrupting whatever it was that Yann and Arthur were grumbling to each other. “Whose phone is that?”

Yann and Arthur both turn their heads towards the living room, frowning when their eyes fall on the same object. “Not a clue,” Arthur shrugs.

“Isn’t that Eliott’s phone?”

Lucas’ head snaps towards Yann. “Huh?”

“Pretty sure that’s Eliott’s phone,” Yann says again, nodding over to the phone. “He probably forgot it on his way out this morning.”

“You saw him this morning?”

“Yeah, he was cleaning up the fucking mess we left in the living room when I walked in. Pretty sure he was passed out on the couch. I think he’s on his way back, he told me he was grabbing croissants for you.” Yann’s looking at Lucas with a knowing smirk on his face, but he’s not saying anything too obvious, and Lucas can’t help but blush because Yann must know that Eliott is the reason why Lucas was suddenly in a better mood than he had been for the past few weeks. He’s actually relieved that his friends aren’t mad, because they probably didn’t expect some dude he met a month ago to be the reason to get Lucas out of bed, but they seem to be more supportive, if anything.

“He’s a real chill guy, your Eliott,” Arthur speaks up, mouth full of cereal. Lucas turns to look at him, a single eyebrow raised.

“He’s not _my_ Eliott. Besides, when have you properly hung out with him?”

“Last night. He was here because we invited him over. I guess he stayed for completely different reasons,” Arthur winks, and Lucas kicks him under the table, feeling the heat in his cheeks increase. Yann’s laughing along, and Lucas is ready to retort with his own smart comments when there’s a knock on the front door.

“Probably your dude,” Yann teases, leading to a deadpan look from Lucas. He giggles as Lucas walks to the door, and of course, Eliott is behind him, holding his laptop in one hand and a bag of pastries in another.

“You’re awake!” he grins, throwing his arms around him. Lucas hugs back instinctively, but before he could settle into Eliott’s body, Eliott has already pulled away from the hug. “I didn’t know what you preferred, so I brought a bit of everything."

Lucas thanks him, grabbing the bag out of his hand and bringing it over to the kitchen, the boys jumping on the bag the minute it arrives. _These hungry motherfuckers_ , Lucas can’t help but think.

“Hey, can I at least grab one? Jesus Christ,” Lucas mutters, sneaking two croissants and two pains au chocolat, placing them in a small bowl before bringing them back into the living room to share with Eliott. Eliott is standing in the middle of the room, gnawing once more at his bottom lip, and Lucas can’t help but admire him for a bit, admire how nervous he looks all of the sudden.

“You can sit, you know,” Lucas chuckles, startling Eliott out of his thoughts.

“Ah, yeah, thanks,” he smiles, walking towards Lucas and plopping down on the couch next to him. Lucas pulls his legs up, crossing them in front of him before turning the TV on to a random station. Eliott’s got his laptop propped on his lap, and his fingers are moving ridiculously fast against the keyboard.

“Am I going to ever be able to read an exerpt from your new novel?” Lucas questions, peeking over at Eliott’s computer. Eliott quickly turns it away, holding Lucas back with a single hand.

“No way,” he smirks, pushing Lucas away gently. “Not until it’s finished.”

“Fuck off,” Lucas groans. “You told me in your texts that you were going to read me some of it.”

“I was lying,” Eliott mutters guiltily. “I was trying to manipulate you into responding to me.”

Lucas’ mouth drops, and a shocked laugh escapes his lips. “Are you serious? You’re sneaky.”

“I’m sorry,” Eliott says, sincerely, and Lucas bumps his shoulder against his, showing that he’s not actually angry. “I won’t hold it against you.”

*** 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Basile mutters into Lucas’ ear as they’re both hunched over the coffee shop counter, watching Eliott from a few tables away. His body language is extremely negative; his hands are in his lap, his back is hunched, and he’s looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him. He doesn’t seem to be saying much; she seems to be doing most of the talking, angrily moving her arms around one moment and looking at Eliott with the gentlest look possible the next.

“I don’t have a damn clue,” Lucas whispers back, his eyes fixed on Eliott.

It had taken a while for Lucas to get back in the groove of things; Basile’s dad had given him two more weeks off to catch up on his assignments before Lucas had to come back to work, so that’s what he did. He worked at home often, but when he could, Eliott would drag Lucas out to the coffee shop, to work in a different environment. They both sat and typed all day, not talking much, but basking in the other’s presence. The teasing from the boys had steadily increased in the past two weeks; anytime Eliott and Lucas were together, talking to each other, texting, anything of the sort, the boys had some sort of comment to make about it. Lucas couldn’t even act like it was driving him up the wall, because he loved not being the only one who thought that Eliott and him looked good together. Even if it never happened, at least he knew that they would make a great couple.

“Try leaning forward, see if you can hear some more,” Basile squinted, shoving Lucas forward. Lucas slapped his hands away, frowning.

“Does it look like my ears have great range? Leaning forward’s not going to do anything.”

“Well shit,” Basile replies, his eyes squinting some more, as if he’s straining to hear the conversation.

They’re both trying so hard to listen to the conversation that they almost don’t notice the woman turn her head gently to look straight at them. Basile and Lucas immediately turn away, trying to look like they were doing something else, except Basile has no coordination whatsoever and knocks over two piles of take out cups and a box of coffee grains. Lucas’ eyes are wide like saucers as he sees the beans scatter on the ground, the noise of the ruckus making most heads snap towards him.

“Nothing to see here,” he reassures everyone gently, hoping to get the attention away from them. He takes a quick glance at Eliott’s table to see Eliott staring back at him, his face void of any emotion. Lucas awkwardly raises his hand in a wave, a grin stretching to both sides of his face. Eliott smiles back at him, waving back gently, and although Lucas can tell just how fake Eliott’s smile was, he can’t help but be glad that he was able to slightly bring Eliott’s mood up.

“Nice going, asshole,” Lucas hisses to Basile when he turns back around, and Basile looks sheepish as he reaches for the scattered cups.

“If you hadn’t roped me into spying on your boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened,” Basile retorts, and Lucas doesn’t even have it in him to fight back, because, well, he’s not _wrong_.

A few moments later, a yell is heard from Eliott’s table, which makes Lucas’ head shoot up from behind the counter. He watches as the girl shoves her chair in angrily, mumbling one last thing to Eliott before she storms away. On her way out, she looks over at Lucas, her face morphing from one of anger to one of disdain, before she storms out of the coffee shop, swinging the door behind her.

“Did you piss in her coffee?” Basile chuckles, having witnessed what had just happened. Lucas doesn’t reply, because he didn’t do shit, why the _fuck_ had this woman _looked_ at him like that?

He doesn’t have any more time to dwell on the question, because Eliott flops down on one of the bar stools in front of him, his hand rubbing against his forehead. “I’m getting drunk tonight.”

“Bad day?” Lucas chuckles, grabbing a cup and serving Eliott the strongest coffee he could possibly make.

“More like bad _week_. I haven’t gotten much work done on my novel, I’ve been drawing way too much but I haven’t been keeping any of them, my agent wants to come visit, and to top this all of, my fucking ex drove all the way from Paris just to yell at me.”

Lucas understands now; that was Eliott’s ex. That’s why Eliott looked so uncomfortable; she _made_ him uncomfortable. It still didn’t make sense as to why she had looked at him like that on her way out, but Lucas would worry about that later.

“So that’s the ex,” Lucas says. Eliott nods, his fingers digging into his eyes.

“She drives me fucking insane,” Eliott replies, thanking Lucas for the coffee and quickly gulping it, regardless of how scorching hot it probably was.

“I’m going to get drunk now,” he concludes, getting off his bench. Basile gawks at him as Lucas frowns, because it’s literally not even past 16:00 yet.

“Dude, it’s so early,” Basile says, because seriously, _what the fuck_ , but Eliott only shrugs.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he states with a two-fingered salute, before leaving the coffee shop. Lucas and Basile are both gaping at the door, confusion lacing both their features.

“Your dude’s insane,” Basile chuckles, turning back to the coffee machines, and Lucas can’t even say anything, because his dude _is_ absolutely insane.

***

It’s a little past 11:00 Lucas’ sitting in the living room, his feet propped up on the couch as a random tv show plays on the tv that Basile’s clearly enjoying, when his phone rings. He’s not surprised to see Eliott’s name pop up on the screen, but his body still reacts happily, his heart jumping in his chest and the butterflies in his chest erupting.

“ _Lucaaaaaas_!” he hears on the other line, slurred and high pitched. Lucas can’t help but chuckle, because who the fuck lets themselves get drunk at a little past four in the afternoon?

“Hello to you too, Eliott.”

“I’m—” he burps, then giggles, and Lucas can’t help but laugh with him. “I’m very drunk.”

“I can tell.”

“C-can you come join me? Can you— I’m at—” Another burp, then a hiccup. “I’m at _La Boissonière_. It’s so fun here. D-Daphné gave me free driiinks! Can you believe that, Lucas? We love Daphné! Tell Basile I’m stealing Daphné from him.”

Lucas laughs, getting up off the couch. “I’ll make sure to let him know that. I’m on my way, okay?”

“Lucas’ coming!” He can hear Eliott say, probably to Daphné. “My Lucas is comiiiing!” Lucas shoves his shoes on, grabbing his jacket off the hanger and distracting himself from the fact that Eliott called him _his_ Lucas.

“Don’t move, okay? I’m on my way,” Lucas says, but there’s no reply. “Eliott? Eliott!”

“Hmm? Oh yeah! Yes, I’m staying here, don’t you worry! I’m not going anywhere. Not going anywhereee.”

Lucas sighs, a grin making its way on his face. He can’t even be mad at Eliott right now when he’s so endearing when he’s drunk.

The drive to _La Boissonière_ is short. Lucas lets the taxi driver not to go anywhere before hopping out of the car, spotting Eliott already from where he is. Eliott is standing outside the bar, his head leaning back on the wall of the building. He’s humming along to the song playing inside, a small grin on his face as his eyes dart around him, barely open but still seeing.

When Eliott spots Lucas walking towards him, he hollers, throwing his hands up in the air. “Lucaaaaaas!”

“It’s me,” Lucas chuckles, approaching Eliott a little faster now that Eliott’s acknowledged him. He’s two steps away from him when Eliott throws himself at Lucas, wrapping his arms around his neck and dropping his head in Lucas’ neck. He pulls away just as fast, holding Lucas’ face in his hands, and Lucas can’t help but get lost in those fucking _eyes_ of his.

“I’ve missed you,” Eliott chuckles, running his thumb back and forth across Lucas’ jaw.

“I’ve missed you too, buddy,” Lucas laughs. “How much have you had to drink?”

Eliott tilts his head up, looking like he’s deep in thought, before shrugging and looking back down at Lucas. “Honestly, I stopped counting after the fifth shot.”

“O-kay,” Lucas sighed, pulling away from Eliott’s hands and throwing an arm around his back, trying to take some of Eliott’s weight. Clearly, he was way too drunk to function properly on his own. “Let’s get you home.”  

Eliott stumbles a few times on his way to the taxi, and Lucas can’t help but laugh at him, because he’s never seen Eliott so loosened up and uncoordinated until then, and he was going to enjoy the most of it.

Eliott’s giggly the entire ride back to his apartment; he doesn’t stop shifting in his seat, one minute looking out the window and the next dropping his head on Lucas’ shoulder. Lucas is trying to stay as relaxed as possible, but Eliott’s got one hand in Lucas’ the entire ride home, and Lucas is willing his hands to stop profusely sweating and for his heart to stop being so erratic.

Minutes that feel like hours pass, and they’re both stumbling out of the taxi after Lucas has paid the fee, Lucas still having a secure arm around Eliott’s lower back. Eliott’s leaning his head against Lucas’, his feet dragging unsteadily across the concrete.

“Where’s your key?” Lucas asks. Eliott pats his pockets a few times, and Lucas’ almost certain that he’s definitely lost them, when he whips them out of his back pocket, grinning wildly at Lucas and holding it up in the air like some sort of trophy.

“I found it!” he exclaims, followed by a string of giggles, and Lucas can’t help but laugh along with him, grabbing the key and unlocking the door. They stumble inside together, Eliott kicking his sneakers off haphazardly across the floor, frowning as he waits for Lucas to gently take his off and leave them at the door. Lucas barely has time to take his shoes off before he looks up and Eliott’s lying on the couch, his half-lidded eyes staring back at him weakly.

“Eliott get up, we have to get you in bed,” Lucas says, walking over to the couch.

“Mmm, comfortable here,” Eliott mutters, shoving his face in the pillows. Lucas sighs, looking up at the ceiling because _why God, did I put myself in this situation_?

“Eliott please,” Lucas says, reaching his hand out. “Let’s go, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.”

Eliott lets out a loud groan which stretches for a few seconds before slowly dragging his body up, reaching for Lucas’ hand. Lucas pulls him up with the small amount of strength he has, causing Eliott to nearly tumble over him.

“Woah, there,” Lucas chuckles, trying to steady Eliott’s body, but Eliott’s towering over him and Lucas probably visibly gulped because he’s suddenly extremely nervous and he’s pretty sure Eliott’s drunk ass can tell.

Eliott smiles, all teeth, before tucking a hand in Lucas’ hair. “You’re cute when you take care of me,” he says, and Lucas can feel the heat travelling into his cheeks at a rapid pace, and he genuinely can’t believe his ears because _Eliott just called me cute_.

“Just when I take care of you?” he teases, trying to feign confidence, but the reality is he feels like his knees could buckle at any moment and he’s pretty sure he can feel a line of stress sweat building up at his hairline. Suddenly, Eliott’s face becomes fully serious, and he removes his hand from Lucas’ hair, dropping it to his neck.

“Not just when you take care of me,” Eliott mutters, almost inaudibly. “All the time. It’s unfair. You’re so _goddamn_ hot.”

Holy _fuck_ , where did that come from?

Lucas swallows once more, his cheeks getting hotter by the minute, and he places his hand over Eliott’s, trying to ground himself. Eliott drops his head against Lucas’, and they’re so _unbearably_ close, their foreheads connected, their noses barely touching. One more inch and their lips would meet.

Lucas wants to, so bad. He’s been wanting this moment for over a month now, but he _can’t_. Not like this. Not when Eliott is this sloshed and most likely not going to remember anything the next day.

“We need to get you in bed,” Lucas mumbles, and Eliott nods a few times against Lucas’ forehead, sighing before slightly pulling away from him.

“Okay,” he smiles, letting Lucas help him into his room. It doesn’t take long to settle Eliott into bed; he removes his jacket and shirt on his own, dragging his pants off before crawling into his blankets, throwing his blankets up to his neck. He’s looking straight at Lucas, who now has no idea what to do. Eliott’s safe and in bed; is he free to go? _Does_ he go home? Should he stay the night to make sure Eliott’s okay the next morning? 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to decide for himself. “Stay,” Eliott mumbles sleepily, and Lucas really doesn’t have to be told twice.

***

Eliott hasn’t had the greatest of mornings. By association, neither has Lucas.

It’s nearing 10:00 and Lucas is sitting on the bathroom floor for what seems like the tenth time, a hand on Eliott’s lower back, rubbing back and forth soothingly as Eliott hunches over the toilet, the vilest sounds coming out of his mouth. At this rate, Lucas has gotten up to help Eliott puke so many times that Eliott was no longer puking up actual food, dry heaving over the toilet bowl and occasionally spitting out some stomach acid. Lucas didn’t know how much Eliott had to drink the night before, but clearly it had been more than enough.

Eliott pulls away from the toilet, falling back and leaning against the wall facing Lucas. He’s still breathing heavily, his lidded eyes darting all over Lucas’ face, and if he’s honest, Eliott still looks drunk.

“Feeling better?” Lucas asks, to which Eliott shakes his head.

“Never better,” he replies sarcastically, earning a small chortle from Lucas. Lucas stands, grabbing Eliott’s arm and hoisting him up, carrying most of his weight. Once they’re back in Eliott’s room, Eliott immediately slips back into the bed, throwing the covers up over his neck. Lucas turns to leave the room, hoping to get to a bakery before the morning rushes hit, when Eliott speaks up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to get some food.”

“I don’t want food, I want you to stay here with me,” Eliott mumbles under his mount of blankets, and Lucas has no idea what to do. On one hand, he’s starving, and he knows that Eliott’s going to need something to eat, ut at the same time, he doesn’t want to leave him.

“Please,” Eliott pleads quietly, almost a whisper, and Lucas can’t say no to that tone.

*** 

When Lucas wakes again, Eliott’s head is pressed against his chest, his hair splayed out over his neck and his arm thrown over Lucas’ stomach. He looks incredibly peaceful, soft snores slipping between his lips and his face void of any and all emotion, only showing the pure innocence in Eliott’s face.

Lucas could have sat and stared at Eliott’s face all day had he not been interrupted by his growling stomach and his cellphone ringing on the counter. Carefully, he peels Eliott’s hand away from his stomach, slowly inching away from under Eliott’s head. When he’s got Eliott’s body completely off of him and Eliott hasn’t shifted, he stands, quietly grabbing his phone and slipping on his shoes.

When he’s outside Eliott’s room, he finally takes a look at his phone, realizing that he hadn’t just missed that one call, he had missed a few seven, all from the boys. He rings them back, and they answer almost immediately.

“Dude! Where the fuck are you?” Yann questions, Basile and Arthur hollering incoherently in the background.

“I’m at Eliott’s. He got drunk last night so I stayed to watch him. Is everything okay?” Lucas adds the question as an afterthought, hoping that there were no surprises waiting for him at his house this time.

“Everything’s good, we were just worried about where you were,” Yann replies, sighing in relief. Lucas smiles, grateful to have such amazing friends.

“That’s good. I have to hang up, but I promise I’m okay, and I’ll probably be back tonight.”

“Have fun!”

After his short conversation with Yann, Lucas heads to the nearest bakery, grabbing a few croissants and pains au chocolat before heading back to Eliott’s. He must have been gone longer than he expected, because when he gets back, Eliott is sitting on the sofa, a blanket thrown over his shoulders, staring at the turned-off TV.

“Eliott?” Lucas asks cautiously, closing the door behind him quietly before tiptoeing into the room. Eliott doesn’t budge, his eyes still fixed on the black of the TV.

“Eliott?” Lucas tries again, this time right next to him. Eliott doesn’t move. Slowly, Lucas reaches out his arm to drop it gently on Eliott’s shoulder, and there it is.

Eliott snaps out of whatever trance he was just involved in, looking over at Lucas with glassy eyes. “You came back,” he mutters, his voice slightly cracking, and Lucas can’t help but smile.

“Of course, I did,” he replies, taking a seat next to him on the couch. “You hungry?”

“Not at all,” Eliott mutters, earning a laugh from Lucas. Lucas is eating silently, watching Eliott like a hawk, because he isn’t saying much, but he looks like something is severly on his mind.

“I can’t remember anything about last night,” Eliott sighs, and Lucas understands now what Eliott had been thinking about. “I can’t remember the last time I blacked out. I guess Lucille brings out that kind of person in me.” Lucas looks down at his hands, shifting over on the couch to be closer to Eliott. He’s listening attentively, but Eliott is unable to look back at him, still fixing that damn TV.

“I was having such a hard time with her,” Eliott continues. “I’ve been in a few relationships but she… I don’t know. I didn’t feel like myself, the entire time. The entire time. She made me feel like absolute shit, Lucas.” Lucas definitely knows how that feels, remembering how distant he had been with his friends prior to his come out due to fear, but ended up feeling like he was someone else for almost an entire month.

He reaches for Eliott’s hand, grasping it in both his hands and squeezing tightly. Eliott squeezes back just as hard, finally looking over at Lucas, and his eyes look so _different_ suddenly. They look so sad, so empty.

“Promise you won’t treat me any differently, ever,” Eliott pleads, after sitting in silence for a bit, and Lucas doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to respond to that, especially that he doesn’t know what Eliott means.

“Why would I ever treat you any differently?”

“Just promise me, Lucas,” Eliott begs, his hand tightening in Lucas’, and while he still doesn’t know what Eliott was talking about, he couldn’t help but let out a weak “I promise” in Eliott’s direction.

Eliott smiled at him, and suddenly Lucas could see a little bit of that light back in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. He was still hurting because of the conversation between he and his ex.

Clearly, Eliott’s ex-girlfriend had treated him like shit, and Lucas was destined to find out why, because at this point forward, he wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt Eliott.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr @luc-lallemant if anyone wants to talk crazy about s4 on there!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed:)
> 
> (Side note: what do we all think of Maxence's hair? I highkey LOVE it)


	6. come with me to paris?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya folks!
> 
> Sorry for the loooong wait! I’ve been super busy with work and with the fucking RAPTORS WINNING THE NBA SERIES and trying to get my health in order so I’ve had trouble finding time to sit and write, but I think I’ve had a strategy so I should be good to post the next few soon!
> 
> This story’s gonna be 10 chapters, I’ve planned out what’s happening in each, I just need to get it down on paper hehe
> 
> Song for this chapter is Outro by M83 if that’s something you’re interested in. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, thank you for your lovely comments as always and HERE’S TO SKAM FRANCE SEASON 5 MOTHERFUCKERS!

Lucas is drowning in guilt.

He doesn’t know what triggered it. He hadn’t thought of his mother in a while, occasionally wondering if she was okay or how she was doing at the clinic, but never to _this_ extent. Never to the point where thinking about his mother made him feel like he was suffocating, and he had to literally claw at his neck in hopes that his breathing would steady at any point. He hadn’t visited his mother in forever, and it’s not like he couldn’t. He works; he’s making the money for it. So why doesn’t he just fucking _go_ _see her_?

The worst of it all was that Lucas knew that if he did go see his mother, his guilt would increase, because, if she was in a good state when he'd show, she would be so happy, _so_ happy to see him. She would completely disregard the fact that Lucas hasn’t seen her in months. On top of that, how does he bring up the fact that his father is getting married again, to someone else?

“What’s on your mind?” Yann frowns from across from him. Yann’s got his computer up on the bar, working on whatever assignment he has to do. There haven’t been many people entering the shop, so Lucas basically gave himself a break, but he’s been staring at the same spot for who knows how long, lost in his thoughts.

“Nothing important,” Lucas mumbles, picking at one of the placemats on the bar.

“Is it about Eliott?” Yann asks, slamming his computer shut and leaning forward, clearly interested at what was going on.  

“No,” Lucas sighed, because of _course_ Yann would think that. It’s not like Lucas _hasn’t_ been thinking about Eliott for the past few days either. Eliott hasn’t been in the shop since the last time they saw each other, and while they did text here and there, Lucas struggled to keep a conversation with him. Eliott was being weird; distant, almost. Lucas was worried as hell, but he couldn’t dwell on it too much. Eliott was just his friend; he didn’t owe him anything. Besides, it’s not like Lucas hadn’t full-on ghosted on Eliott for nearly two weeks.

“Then what are you thinking about?” Yann presses, and Lucas pushes his thumb and forefinger into his eye in an attempt to stop the uncontrollable headache he’s experiencing.

“I just…” he pauses, looking up at Yann, sighing once more. “I miss my mom, you know? It’s not even like I can’t go see her. I have the money, my assignments are completed, I don’t have another test for a month, I have a few days off starting tomorrow, I could go. But I _can’t_. I never do. I don’t know why. I miss her, but I can’t face her, because I feel so damn guilty.”

“Why would you feel guilty?” Yann questions, a frown on his face. “You’ve done nothing but take care of her your whole life. It’s okay to take some time to yourself.”

“I get that, but how long has it been? That’s not time that’s me _ignoring_ her. It’s eating me alive.”

Yann doesn’t answer, which is a clear sign for Lucas that he’s right. He’s purposely avoiding his problems in hopes that they’ll go away, but they won’t. His mother is still sick, by herself in a clinic. His father’s still getting remarried. Everything is a mess. Nothing’s changed.

“Go see her, then.”

“What?” Lucas’ head snaps up, and Yann’s looking at him like he’s the dumbest man on Earth.

“Go _see_ her, then. You said it yourself, you have the time, you have the money, so go. Don’t let yourself wallow in self-pity and ifs and buts and what-ifs. Just go, I’m sure it would make her very happy.”

“Would you come with me?” Lucas asks, hopefully, because he maybe can’t face her alone, but he should be able to face her with his best friend.

“I would join you, but I’m pretty broke right now, and there’s no way you’d pay for me. I also think you should face her alone. That’s your mother, Lucas. You’ll be fine,” Yann says, and Lucas knows he’s right, knows that he should face his mother alone, knows that he should go by himself and deal with his problems.

That doesn’t mean he’s actually going to listen to him.

 

*** 

 

_hey_

**eliott(:**  
hey! sorry I haven’t been replying much. been writing

 **eliott(:**  
I’m actually getting a lot done!

 _hey, that’s good! I’m glad you’re getting your_  
writing done  
  
I actually had a question to ask you  
  
I know it’s a lot but I thought I’d ask 

**eliott(:**  
just ask the question Lucas  
  
**eliott(:**  
haha

 

 _okay. Um, so I want to go see my mom_  
  
haven’t visited in a minute  
  
but I’m scared to go alone  
  
It’s been a while  
  
so basically I’m asking  
  
come with me to Paris?

 **eliott(:  
**don’t have to ask me twice.

 **eliott(:**  
hopefully we don’t run into my demon agent  
  
**eliott(:**  
when are we going? :)

 

***

 

“Dude! You’ll never believe this!”

Lucas is lounging on the couch peacefully, his eyes shut as he basks in the noise of Alexia and Arthur trying to work out an assignment in the kitchen, Yann gaming on the TV, and Basile scrolling mindlessly through his phone, when Bas’ voice cuts through his peace.

“What?” Lucas asks, rather quite rudely, because he was so fucking relaxed until now.

“Go _look_ at what E. More tweeted!”

Lucas’ attention is suddenly back as he sits up quickly, reaching for his phone. E. More had been radio silent since their last publication, and while they had a Twitter account, it usually went unused, unless they were giving out hints about new novels or publication dates. That’s why Lucas knew that if E. More had tweeted, it was definitely important.

Opening the twitter application, the tweet is the first thing that appears on his dashboard, and he can feel his heart start to race.

 

 **_E. More @enterpolaris  
_ ** _Soon._

 

It’s so little. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-word tweet, but it ignites this excitement in him that wasn’t there before; anticipation, hope, excitement.

“What do you think it means?” Basile asks.

“I have no damn clue,” Lucas replies, hastily typing out a reply like he usually does when E. More tweets. “I don’t want to overthink it for now.”

“Fair,” Basile sighs. “So, dudes, Daphné and I had a crazy night yesterday. I mean, insane,” and Lucas knows that there’s no point in making his ears bleed, so he immediately gets up, going to join Arthur and Alexia in the kitchen. They’re arguing back and forth over a question they’re both struggling to understand, so Lucas bypasses them before he has to listen to any more of it, quickly grabbing an apple before dipping to his room.

In the comfort and silence of his own bedroom, he lets the stress build up again. He knows he’s going to see his mother. He knows she’s going to be happy to see him, but he can’t help but be nervous. Does he text her to let her know? Does he call her? What if they get there and he’s not even able to see her? There are so many factors to this whole situation and he honestly doesn’t know how to handle it. This is why he didn’t want to even think about visiting her; the whole situation stresses him out.

The thing with his mother though, is that it’s not about _him_. It doesn’t matter how stressed out it makes him. It doesn’t matter that he’s fearing, more than anything, that his mother’s going to be having an episode, or won’t want to see him. He fears rejection so immensely that he decides he’s way too scared to warn her, in fear of her reaction. He knows he has to go see her. Her answer to his text would only push him away. The more unknown the future is, the better.

Lucas is stuck in his own thoughts about his mother that he doesn’t understand why his phone is dinging with sudden notifications, considering his friends are a room over and Eliott is probably busy. He pulls out his phone from his pocket hastily, his eyes widening when he processes what’s on his screen.

 **_E. More @enterpolaris_ ** _liked your reply._

 _**E.** **More** **@enterpolaris** _ _retweeted your reply._

 _ **E. More** **@enterpolaris  
**_@lucallemant thanks for the support.

 

Things just might be looking up.

 

***

 

Eliott’s at his door, two days later, a small duffle bag on his shoulder. He’s grinning wide, reflecting emotions that are the exact opposite of what Lucas’ feeling. He’s so nervous he had to change his shirt three times from sweating through them, his hands won’t stop shaking and he can’t sit anywhere without his leg repeatedly bouncing, and he’s not even seeing her until _tomorrow_.

The boys are home—surprisingly Basile was given the day off—and they wave Eliott and Lucas off on their short little vacation. Part of Lucas wishes his friends would have tagged along with him, as their support is something he _really_ needs right now, but he’s grateful that Eliott accepted to come with him.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Yann had teased while Eliott was busy talking to Arthur, and it took everything in Lucas not to deck him, because this was about his _mother_ , damn it, not the ongoing and not-so-small crush he had on Eliott. That was unimportant. He could deal with that later.

It was becoming very hard to forget about it, however, when Eliott was constantly brushed up against him. On their walk in a search for a taxi, Eliott’s arm is burning against his from how close together they’re walking. Inside the taxi itself, Eliott doesn’t leave a space in the middle between Lucas and himself, instead deciding to press up right next to Lucas instead, asking different questions about the different attractions around Sulniac, and Vannes when they had arrived. By the time they were inside the train station, Lucas was nervous to even _find_ their train in the first place, because boarding would mean sitting, and sitting would mean Eliott would probably sit right next to him again and make him nervous for the entire three hours they would be in the train.

They’re sitting in extremely uncomfortable chairs in a waiting room, patiently waiting for their train to come in. Lucas just wanted to get inside considering they had expensive tickets, which meant they were guaranteed better seats. Lucas felt like he was currently sitting on a straight, hard surface. It sucked. He was tired. He was hungry. He just wanted to crash into a bed and sleep everything off and holy _fuck_ , why is Eliott’s hand on his knee?

“You’re nervous,” Eliott laughs, looking down at him, and Lucas swallows because he’s now convinced Eliott’s onto him. He knows about the crush, he knows everything, he’s probably going to want to go back home—

“Your knee has been bouncing the entire way here. Just relax; your mom will be happy to see you.”

And, _oh_. That’s what Eliott meant. It is true, Lucas is so damn nervous about his mother, more than usual now that he’s getting closer and closer to meeting her, but right now, he was concerned about the fact that he invited Eliott to spend a weekend with him in Paris, the most fucking _romantic_ city in the world, Eliott, the most attractive man he’s ever seen, the sweetest, most genuine, nicest, respectful, down-to-Earth guy he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing, Eliott, who Lucas is certain he now has a _gigantic_ fucking crush on.

That’s the same guy he brought on this trip. Fucking _great_. As if his nerves weren’t already shot.

“I’ll be fine,” Lucas grins, briefly looking up at Eliott before looking away quickly when he realized just how close they were sitting next to each other. Eliott’s hand lingers on his knee for a bit longer, giving it a gentle squeeze before sliding it off, and Lucas can feel like the air’s finally back in his lungs again.

That’s what Lucas can’t understand about how Eliott makes him feel; Eliott makes him feel like he’s out of breath, struggling for air, and makes him feel like his lungs are taking in the best air possible all at the same time. It confused Lucas, scared him, even. He’s experiencing feelings for Eliott that he had never really dealt with before, and it’s stressing him out, because Eliott is his _friend_. They’re just friends. Nothing more.

Trying to distract himself, Lucas pulls out his phone, refreshing Twitter. There has been no other tweet from E. More, no other interaction with fans, nothing. Lucas still doesn’t know why they picked him specifically to answer to; it could be because Lucas has always shown his support and they remembered, but Lucas can’t help but feel special. In a life where he’s always felt like he’s been put last, this author picked him out of a pool full of people and answered to him specifically. It made his heart swell.

He refreshes the page once more, begging for another tweet to show up, when Eliott’s voice slices through his thoughts. “That the author you’re in love with?”

“I’m not in love with them,” Lucas snipes defensively, realizing that he answered the question way too fast. “I’m in love with their writing.”

“Sure,” Eliott chuckles, and _fuck_ this guy, always laughing at him, teasing him, being the friendliest friend to ever befriend Lucas. Fuck _that_ , Lucas wants him, and he wants him _now_.

“The train to Paris is now boarding. All priority passengers are allowed on first, followed by economy passengers.”

Guess it’ll have to wait.

Lucas and Eliott wait until their section is called, before grabbing their bags and boarding the train. They don’t find their seats easily, having to weave through a ridiculous amount of people searching for their seats or trying to get their bags stowed in the best way possible, but eventually they get to their spot, Lucas shoving in front of Eliott to get the window seat, making Eliott giggle.

“You know there’s not much to see with how fast this train moves, you know that, right?”

“Fuck off,” Lucas mumbles, whipping out his headphones from his bag. Eliott settles next to him, raising the arm rest between them to create more space, and presses himself up right against Lucas’ side because Eliott has no mercy on Lucas’ mind and soul, it’s almost ridiculous at this point.

“I’m giving you a warning right now that I might drool on your shirt.”

“Who said you could lean on me if you slept?” Lucas frowns, as if he wasn’t going to allow Eliott to lean against him regardless.

“Hopeful thinking,” Eliott smirks, and Lucas rolls his eyes, hopefully distracting Eliott from his red cheeks. Lucas knows Eliott has him read at this point; he couldn’t be more blatantly obvious about his feelings. At this point, if Eliott isn’t making any moves, it’s because he doesn’t like him back, and Lucas can live with that. Eventually. He’ll _have_ to.

The trip isn’t the shortest, but it goes by extremely fast, due to the fact that Eliott and Lucas passed out about ten minutes after it took off. The motivation to get up and out of the train and deal with the immense rush that is Paris makes Lucas want to turn right back around and go home, but he can feel his mother’s loving hands, her warm embrace, pulling at him, _aching_ for him.

“You ready to go, or you’re crashing on this train, sleepy head?” Eliott teases, and Lucas rolls his eyes at him again because he _wants_ his eyeballs to fall out of their sockets, he really does.

The first step outside of the train is brutal; people are ripping past him, either heading to a new destination, or searching for the quickest way to get out of there, and honestly, he doesn’t blame them, because if Lucas doesn’t get out of there as quick as possible he just might pass out.

As if the Gods were hearing his internal struggle, a warm hand finds his, long fingers wrapping tightly around his palm. Lucas looks up and finds Eliott’s eyes staring back at him, an unreadable expression on his face, and suddenly it’s like there’s nothing moving around him. The clock on the wall has stopped moving, the people running around him have slowed down to an undetectable speed, there are no more loud sounds, nothing, just Eliott. That’s all he sees, that’s all he hears.

So, when Eliott tugs gently on his hand, _follow me_ , Lucas trails after him easily.

 

***

 

The hotel layout is a little weird.

“I’ll take the pullout,” Eliott blurts, and Lucas immediately shakes his head. “Nah, you’re taller than I am. I’ll take it.”

Eliott shakes his head, pulling it out and dropping his bag on top of it. “I’ve already claimed it. Mine now.”

There are only so many options; there’s a small twin bed by the window to their hotel room, a large double (or is it a queen? Lucas isn’t sure) bed sitting in the middle of the room, with a removable mattress stored under the bed to make space. The mattress is significantly smaller than the bed, and Lucas knows that Eliott will probably have the worst sleep of his life, but it’s either that or they share the bed, and Lucas is _nowhere_ near ready for that.

“What are we doing today?” Eliott asks, eyes bright and wide, fully awake, and Lucas wants to cry, because all he really wants to do is sleep but he knows that Eliott wants to get out into his old hometown.

“Uh—” Lucas sighs. “I just… do you mind if I sleep? For a little while?”

“What, you jetlagged?” Eliott jokes, and coughs awkwardly when Lucas doesn’t blink an eye. “Kidding.”

“I’m obviously _not_ ,” Lucas retorts. “I just want to catch up on sleep. I didn’t sleep well last night and neither did I sleep well on the train either, so.”

“Of course,” Eliott nods. “Take a nap. I’m really not tired at all, so I’ll probably just write some more, maybe sketch something. Don’t worry about it.”

Lucas smiles gratefully at him, quickly kicking his shoes off, throwing off his tight, sweat-stained shirt and jumping into the blankets. Once inside the bed, he shrugs off his jeans, chucking them across the room.

“Making yourself at home?” Eliott laughs from his spot on the twin bed, his laptop on his legs.

“You could say that,” Lucas chuckles, and he barely has time to see Eliott pull out his pencil and sketchbook before his eyes close on their own accord as he slips into a deep, blissful sleep.

 

***

 

When Lucas wakes, it’s to the sounds of a running shower and a dark room. Lucas’ not sure how long he slept for, considering he hasn’t yet checked the time and he’s too lazy to move to grab his phone, but he must’ve slept a long time, considering it’s dark out.

The only light in the room comes from the bathroom, as there’s a small gap between the two doors leading into the shower. Lucas doesn’t understand who thought it was a good idea to leave a gap between the doors, as if he tried hard enough or wanted to, he would probably be able to see Eliott through the crack, but Lucas was not one to think too hard about architecture, considering he knows close to nothing about it.

Lucas reaches for his phone on the bedside table, checking the time. **20h45** blinks back at him, and holy _fuck_ , Lucas slept for a while. He doesn’t know if it’s the stress from the upcoming events of tomorrow, or being away from Sulniac, or being away from Sulniac with _Eliott_ , but he had rested so badly prior to the trip, and he knew he needed a nap but he had no idea he had to sleep for hours.

He has a few messages from the boys wondering if they got there okay, and he quickly replies that he’s all good. He scrolls through Instagram for a few minutes, nothing interesting him, so he locks his phone and stands up, wandering the room to find a light, knocking his hip into it in the process.

When the light fills the room, Lucas turns back towards the table that nearly killed him, making sure nothing was out of place. He’s about to turn his attention away from it when he notices Eliott’s sketchbook on the ground, the pages pressing against the floor, and Lucas understands that he knocked it over in his clumsy process of trying to turn off the light. He walks towards it, picking it up.

Here’s what needs to be understood. Lucas was not going to flip through it. He was never planning on him. He would never do that to Eliott; if Eliott wanted to see his drawings, he would show Lucas, so Lucas wasn’t going to push. So, when Lucas picked up the notebook, the only thing he was planning on doing was putting it back on the table and walking away from it.

But now, he can’t. He can’t just put it down, not without his stomach turning and his heart preparing to burst out of his chest, or his senses being immediately cut off. Because he’s looking down at the sketchbook, and his face is staring back at him.

It wasn’t drawn based on today’s events. Lucas’ hair is drawn a little shorter than it is currently, and the location seems to be Eliott’s house, Lucas’ arms by his sides as he looks down at whatever was entertaining him on his phone at the time. The entire picture is black and white, Eliott using his shading and gentle strokes to bring out his prominent features, but the only colour on the paper is the splash of blue that Eliott included in his eyes. Lucas wants to cry, because he’s never ever seen himself as beautiful ever looking at himself in the mirror, or even when he was told by other people, he didn’t believe it. The way Eliott sees him, however, the way Eliott drew him, Lucas’ never seen anything more beautiful.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Lucas’ head shoots up, and _fuck_ , because he didn’t even hear the shower stop running or Eliott get out, but he can’t stop his brain from short-circuiting because Eliott’s wet hair is dripping onto his beautiful chest, the only thing covering up his extremities being a white towel around his waist. He’s staring back at him, and while he doesn’t look _mad_ , necessarily, he doesn’t look happy either. Right, the sketchbook.

“I can explain this,” Lucas blurts, putting the sketchbook down on the table when his brain decides to start working again. Eliott doesn’t say anything, simply raising a single eyebrow, motivating him to continue.

“It fell over,” he starts, and Eliott clearly doesn’t believe him by the way his face morphs into one that looks much closer to angry, so Lucas quickly continues. “I was trying to turn on the light and I bumped into the table. Your sketchbook fell over and I just went to pick it up. This was the page it landed on. I didn’t flip through it, I swear. I don’t think it’s my place to look through it unless you asked me.”

It’s silent in the room, Eliott staring at him, face void of any emotion, and Lucas’ trying not to panic, because there is nothing he wants more than for this trip to go right, and he may have already fucked it up without even doing it on purpose.

Then, Eliott nods, a small grin appearing on his face. “I believe you.”

Lucas lets out a breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders release. “Just like that?”

“Do you want me to not believe you?” Eliott asks.

“No! I do, I just…” Lucas pauses, because he’s not sure what he’s trying to say. What is he trying to say? He needs to stop talking before he blurts out something he regrets, but his mouth is clearly moving quicker than his brain. “I don’t know how you trust me so easily.”

“I do,” Eliott smiles, taking a step forward, and Lucas’ breath hitches in his throat. “So… we should probably get dressed, since we’re definitely going out.”

Lucas is still in his boxers. It only hits him after Eliott speaks, but they’re both standing in this room, very close to being naked, and the tension in the air is thick, Lucas unable to keep his eyes away from Eliott’s lips, his eyes, his chest, his abs, everything.

So, he nods quickly, taking a step back. “Yeah, we should.”

Before Lucas can even gather his thoughts, Eliott is walking towards him, his eyes never leaving his, and Lucas is frozen in his spot, because holy _shit_ , Eliott is very close, and they’re both naked, and this situation can change drastically at any point now.

Eliott looks down at him, a ghost of a grin still on his face, and Lucas’ so mesmerized he misses Eliott’s eyes dropping to his lips as he licked his own. “My bag’s behind you.”

Huh?

“What?” Lucas says stupidly, out loud now, and Eliott laughs in his face.

“My bag with my clothes. You have it trapped behind you.”

“Oh!” Lucas exclaims, realizing that he is, indeed, standing right in front of Eliott’s bag. He quickly moves off to the side, heading for his bag to find what he’s going to wear. He barely has time to pick something out when he hears Eliott’s towel drop to the ground, which means Eliott is probably buttfuck naked now, holy _fuck,_ so Lucas acts rationally, and he bolts to the shower before he does something he’ll regret.

 

***

 

Eliott’s little tour of Paris is the best few hours Lucas ever has. It’s not too cold, but not warm either, Eliott wearing his usual brown jacket while Lucas has his thin windbreaker on, a scarf in his little drawstring bag in case he needs it.

Eliott brings him through all the big monuments, the little cafés, the more secluded, suburban areas, everything. They spend a ridiculous amount of money on food and transport, and they don’t regret any of it.

Lucas is extremely grateful for Eliott. Not just because he likes him, but because prior to that trip, the few memories Lucas had of Paris weren’t the greatest. To him, Paris is the place where his father shipped his mother off to when she became too much of a responsibility for his father. To him, Paris is the place where he was blatantly blown off by his father when he just wanted to make him aware of his accomplishments. To him, Paris is the place where he’s been unable to come visit his mother, due to the fear that she wouldn’t be in the best state or wouldn’t want to see him. Paris for him has been the worst, so he’s glad that he brought Eliott. In a short amount of time, all the negative thoughts Lucas had about Paris had been replaced by some new, better memories. 

However, Lucas’ biggest fear was happening. They were going to the Eiffel Tower.

The Eiffel Tower is gorgeous at night. It illuminates everyone around it, shining bright in the middle of Paris. The problem with these lights is that they bounced back on Eliott’s face so gorgeously, bringing out the colour in his eyes, defining all his features from his pointy nose to the curl of his lips, and Lucas felt like he was getting a bad case of déjà-vu. Eliott turns to look at him, a gentle smile on his face, and Lucas feels like he may pass out. Eliott raises a single eyebrow, his smile never wavering. _You okay?_ He doesn’t say it out loud, but he doesn’t have to. Lucas smiles back at him. _Better than ever._

They go up to the top of the Tower after admiring it for a while. From the top, the view of Paris is insane, the lights illuminating the entire city, life echoing through the streets from cars honking, tourists and locals walking around, living their lives. Lucas stood by the edge and let himself take it in, let himself bask in the light wind blowing in his face, took a few minutes to ground himself and enjoy the moment, because these were the moments he was grateful to be alive for. These were the moments he lived for. It was euphoric.

Eliott can still tell that Lucas’ mind wanders often to thoughts of his mother, because he tries his best to keep Lucas as stress-free as possible.

“You know what I do when I’m stressed about something?” Eliott asks, turning to look at him.

“What?”

“I scream it into the void. Just let it all out.” He takes another step forward, placing himself flush against the edge of the tower. “ _I’m scared my next book won’t be as successful as my last ones!”_

Lucas laughs, hard, because Eliott probably looks like a crazy person, screaming to no one in particular, but then Eliott turns back to look at him and he’s laughing out loud, happiness radiating off of him, so Lucas joins him against the balcony.

_“I’m scared my mom is going to turn me away! I’m scared she’s not going to want to see me! I’m scared she’s never going to speak to me again when she finds out I’m gay! I’m scared, I’m scared…”_

Lucas doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eliott has a hand on his shoulder, and Lucas can’t hold back any longer. He shoves himself into Eliott, burying his head in his chest. Eliott’s arms wrap quickly around his waist, the grip strong and tight, and Lucas knows that he’s mumbling something, probably telling him that it’s okay, to let it out, but Lucas can barely hear him over the sound of his own sobs. He just sobs, and sobs, his hands clawing at Eliott’s back, trying to pull himself closer than he even can, as if he’s not already fully submerged in _Eliott_.

The Eiffel Tower, supposedly the most romantic place in the world. Lucas’ first time being there, and he’s fully breaking down.

 

***

 

They get back to the hotel room about an hour later, Eliott succeeding in calming Lucas down. While crying on top of the tower was pretty embarrassing, he did feel better afterwards, which was all that really mattered. He still feared meeting his mother the next day, but he wasn’t stressing about it anymore. Whatever happens happens, and he’ll deal with it when it comes. He just has to take it day by day.

Lucas is in his bed, his head at the foot of the bed, his head sitting in his arms. Eliott is on his mattress below him, his arms behind his head as he looks up at Lucas. They’re both silent for a few minutes, Eliott staring up at the ceiling while Lucas looks down at him. The room is a dark, the light from the street barely seeping through the window.

“Do you believe in parallel universes?” Lucas blurts, and almost regrets bringing it up when Eliott turns to look at him, pure interest on his face.

“Not really,” Eliott shrugs. “Then again, I’ve never really thought about it.”

“You don’t think there’s an exact _us_ , somewhere out there, in a completely different universe, sitting in these exact positions, except those curtains are like, yellow or something?”

“Yellow curtains,” Eliott chuckles. “That’s what would be different about the universe?”

“Of course,” Lucas chuckles, and it’s silent again for a few seconds, until Eliott speaks up again.

“If I believe in parallel universes, that means there could also be a universe where we’re not sitting in these positions. Possibly a universe where we never met.”

Lucas’ heart sinks at just the thought, because Lucas could not see his life without Eliott now. “Sounds like an awful parallel universe.” Eliott grins at him, and Lucas knows he said the right things.

“Really does.”

“You know why I like the thought of parallel universes?” Lucas asks, and Eliott shrugs, making a _go on_ signal with his hand.

“When you have to make a choice, there’s more than one option. You obviously have to chosoe eventually, so you pick one. Some people dwell on what they didn’t do; they dwell on the road not taken, the what ifs of that road, wondering if they made the wrong decision. I just tell myself Lucas in parallel universe #8693 took the other option, meaning that in the end, I did, in fact, go through all my options. I think it’s a good mentality to live with. It keeps you from dwelling on the past too much.”

Eliott is staring up at him, not saying anything, and Lucas’ certain he’s made himself sound like a fool, because who the fuck gets so passionate about fucking _parallel universes_? He made everything sound so much more intense than it actually is.

“I mean, it’s really not that deep,” Lucas mumbles, trying to diffuse the heaviness in the room. Eliott smiles up at him.

“It’s fine, Lucas. I can see how passionate you are about this topic. I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to say I don’t believe in it because I’ve never really thought about it. It is pretty interesting though.” He pauses, then grins brightly back up at Lucas. “You know what I do believe in though?”

“What?”

“Palm readings,” he says, his grin dissipating into a gentle smile, and he raises his hand, grabbing at Lucas’ arm and untucking it from where it wasunder his chin. His hands slide down Lucas’ arm slowly, stopping at his wrist, his fingers gently prying Lucas’ hand open. Lucas is trying so hard to look calm, but Eliott’s being so gentle with him, every point of contact burning against Lucas’ skin, making him feel like his entire body was on fire.

“It’s actually called chiromancy,” Eliott continues. “It started as a very Eurasian method of future telling, then moved to Greece. The Catholics tried to claim it as pagan superstition at some point, and palmistry kind of disappeared for some time, but eventually it was revived and modernized. I’m no professional, but I can kind of figure out some future from the lines of your palm. For example, this one right here,” he pauses, running his finger down from the center of Lucas’ palm to the base, near his wrist. “This one’s the fate line. It can be used to determine the timing of your fortunes. Then, there’s the life line,” he stops again, running his finger on the line from the side of his palm, between his forefinger and his thumb, and tracing it downwards. “This line reveals information about encounters you’ll make in your life, your relationships with others, your emotional and physical well-being, stuff like that. Then, the one people care the most about: the love line. That’s the one right here,” he traces his finger on the line that starts between his forefinger and middle finger, dragging it in a curve towards the edge of his palm. “It’s also called the heart line, and it reveals your attitude towards love; it can reveal how complicated you are with love, what your love life will look like, what your personal relationships will look like, it can reveal all of that. That’s the one most people usually care about.”

Lucas is listening to him, of course, because Eliott seems to know what he’s talking about, and just like the parallel universes for Lucas, he seems to deeply care about this topic, but Lucas can barely focus when Eliott’s gentle fingers are running softly against his hand, light as a feather. Lucas inhales sharply, looking down at Eliott.

“What can you say about my love line, then?” Lucas asks, and Eliott looks down at his hand, running his thumb up and down his love line. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks up.

“That’ll be 20 euros, please,” Eliott says, and Lucas is so shocked he laughs, because if there was any way for the tension in the air to be sliced with a knife, it was that comment. Eliott laughs at him, slowly dropping his hand, and Lucas immediately misses the warmth.

“I’m joking, obviously,” Eliott teases. “I’m not telling you, though. I think it’s important to live in the moment; enjoy moments as they happen. If you know what your future looks like, you’re going to spend your life waiting for that moment. That’s boring. You have to live in the present, Enjoy moments as they come. Take it day by day. Hour by hour, even.”

“Hour by hour,” Lucas repeats, then pauses. “Minute by minute.”

Eliott turns to look at him, and the brightest smile appears on his face. “Minute by minute. I like that.”

Lucas smiles down at him, and Eliott turns to the side, his eyes drooping slowly. “In this minute, I’m falling asleep.”

Lucas chuckles, watching as Eliott is slowly being consumed by a deep slumber. Lucas’ pretty sure Eliott’s asleep and is about to turn and try to sleep as well when Eliott speaks up one more time.

“Tomorrow’s going to be fine.”

Lucas smiles, and he feels tears well up in his eyes again, but they’re not sad tears. They’re happy tears. He’s happy to have Eliott here with him. He wouldn’t have asked for anything else.

Lucas lets his arm drop one more time, gently running his fingers through Eliott’s hair. “Thank you,” he mumbles, and the corner of Eliott’s mouth curls up, before Lucas throws the blanket fully over himself as well, letting the warmth of the bed and Eliott’s soft breaths lull him to sleep.

In this minute, everything is okay.


	7. Stop ignoring me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy fuck, guys, sorry for the wait. I'm also sorry this chapter is so short but it's mostly a filler; peak is going to hit in the next few chapters and it's going to get pretty angsty, pretty fluffy, everything you can imagine.
> 
> Not to say don't read this chapter lol. Please read this one too, haha! And comment what you think :)
> 
> All mistakes are mine, if there are any significant ones let me know!
> 
> Chapter song is Forgiven by Vancouver Sleep Clinic :)))
> 
> Enjoy!

Lucas wakes up in the middle of the night, and in this minute, nothing is okay. 

His whole body is drenched in sweat when he wakes, he feels like he can’t breathe, and his vision is blurry. He doesn’t remember if he had a nightmare or not, he just knows that he’s having a hard time.

Eliott is up and by his side in a few seconds. Lucas doesn’t know if he woke him, or if Eliott was awake, he just knows that Eliott’s in front of him, talking to him, but Lucas can’t hear the words. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

Eliott’s hand grabs at his, placing it on his chest. Lucas feels it; a deep inhale. A deep exhale. _In, out. In, out_.

Lucas can’t breathe. Lucas misses his mother. Lucas is afraid to see his mother again.

_In, out. In, out._

It’s a panic attack. He’s had panic attacks before, when he was younger, but it had never been this bad.

_In, out. In, out._

Eliott’s voice can be heard, slowly, muffled, but he can hear it. _I’m here, Lucas. Breathe in with me. In, out._

Lucas can see the worried creases in Eliott’s forehead, the freckles dotting his face. He’s so close. One hand on top of his, on his chest. Another hand on his cheek. _Breathe with me, slowly._

Vision is getting better. Eliott’s voice is clearer. He’s breathing again, slowly, but surely.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas gasps out, hand holding Eliott’s tightly, because he’s going to scare Eliott off. All his family drama, all of his internalized problems, he’s so unstable, Eliott’s going to fuck off, he’s going—

“Stop,” Eliott snaps, sternly. “Stop saying things like that,” he continues, because apparently Lucas was saying all of these things out loud. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, Lucas.”

Eliott’s forehead is against his. They’re sharing one breath. Lucas can feel the constriction in his chest loosen.

In this moment, Lucas and Eliott are one.

 

***

 

In this minute, Lucas is nervous.

His leg is bouncing repeatedly, his hands shaking against the arm chairs. They’re in a waiting room, currently waiting to hear back from his mom’s nurse to know if she’s even in the _condition_ to see Lucas. Lucas usually goes to see her regardless, unless she gets physically aggressive.

Eliott is sitting next to him, scrolling through his phone, but he’s got a comforting arm around Lucas’ shoulder, squeezing it intermittently when he can feel Lucas’ nerves skyrocketing. At the point where he’s at, Lucas knows that without Eliott here he would have already self-destructed.

It feels like hours before his mother’s nurse steps out from the locked door separating the entrance and the living area. She doesn’t look afraid, or worried, but she doesn’t look happy to see him either. Lucas just hopes it’s enough.

“Hello, Lucas,” she says as she approaches him, as he stands to wrap her in a hug. He pulls back just as quickly, crossing his arms so she wouldn’t see his shaking hands. Before she is able to say anything, she turns her glance towards Eliott, a skeptical frown taking over her features.

“I’m Eliott, Lucas’ friend,” he states, sticking his hand out. She shakes it, a small smile making her way on her face, though her eyes still look just as suspicious. She turns back to Lucas, raising a single eyebrow. _Are you sure?_ Lucas nods subtly, hoping she understands what he’s trying to convey. _He’s fine_.

Convinced she got the message, she sighs, the skepticism in her face disappearing. “I’ve got some good news and some bad news, which one do you want first?”

“Uh,” Lucas pauses, turning back to Eliott. Eliott shrugs back at him, clearly not knowing which one Lucas should pick either. “The good news, I guess.”

“Right,” she continues. “The good news is, she’s been pretty stable recently, we haven’t had many behavioral problems and we haven’t had to intervene. The bad news…”

Lucas leans forward, as if pushing her to continue. She sighs once more.

“The bad news is, she’s quite out of it right now. She’s not speaking to anyone, and we’re not sure if it’s her deliberately ignoring us or if she isn’t fully lucid right now. You’re able to go see her, as she doesn’t seem to pose any threats, but don’t expect much communication from her today. I’d also suggest,” she stops, side-eyeing Eliott, “I’d suggest he wait at the door. I don’t want any new faces scaring her.”

Lucas opened his mouth as if to argue, because why bring Eliott here if he couldn’t even come in and meet his mother?

Before Lucas can speak however, Eliott already has a hand to his shoulder. “It’s okay,” he smiles. “I can wait at the door. If she wants to meet me, she’ll let me in.”

“Okay,” Lucas gulps, placing his hand on top of Eliott’s. He turns back to the nurse, nodding firmly. “Take us to her.”

 

***

 

The room is dead quiet when he steps in.

His mother is sitting in a chair, her back to him, watching the window, unmoving. He takes a tentative step forward, not wanting to startle her. By the time he’s standing right behind her, she still hasn’t moved from her spot. 

“Momma?” Lucas whispers, almost inaudibly, placing a gentle hand on his mother’s shoulder. As if a lightning bolt struck through her, she blinks, her head snapping towards Lucas. Her eyes dart around his features, the tears filling them slowly. She raises a hand to her son’s face, Lucas immediately pushing his face towards the comforting warmth of his mother. 

“My son,” she gasps, standing, and Lucas can’t help but immediately throw his arms around her, because he’s waited for this moment for so long. He’s been so scared, so scared that she wouldn’t want to see him, that she’d react badly, so to see her take him in with open arms, with her love, Lucas couldn’t have asked for more.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucas gasps, fighting the tears but his emotion being evident in his cracking voice. His mother shhs him immediately, running a hand against his hair.

“Don’t ever apologize to me, Lucas. Don’t apologize.”

“I should have come sooner,” Lucas breathes, taking a step back. “I’m such a coward, waiting until dad causes a trainwreck before I decide it’s a good idea to _finally_ come see you—”

“Lucas, none of that,” his mother scolds gently, holding his face in both of her hands. “You did what you had to do. You were there for me your whole life; it is time _you_ have your own life. I am not upset. I love you just as much, okay?" 

Lucas nods against her hands, a smile breaking out on his face through the tears streaming down his cheeks. She wipes away at them, a grin on her face. Lucas couldn’t have hoped for more. He had been dying to finally see his mother smile again.

“How have you been, my boy?” she asks, taking a seat in her bed and pulling Lucas along with her.

“I’ve been okay,” Lucas says. “I had quite a few horrible weeks after dad announced the wedding to me, but I guess I’m doing a lot better now.”

“Have you talked to your dad about that? Did you confirm your presence?”

“No,” Lucas replies, a frown forming on his face. “Why would I do that?”

“Lucas,” his mother sighs, gripping both his hands. “Do not let the past continue to haunt your present. Your father is happy; that is truly what matters. He wants you, his son, to attend his wedding; you should go. Do not refuse to attend in my honor; I promise you, it is okay. Your father and I fell out of love early; he is doing what makes him happy. I respect his decision, in the end. I forgive him; if I didn’t forgive him, I would be unable to continue to live peacefully.”

Lucas sighs. He knows how right she is; she is the wisest person he knows, but he can’t bring himself to forgive his father. As the one that had to be his mother’s keeper while his dad fucked off to cheat on her, he is unable to bring himself to forgive his father, because in the end, his dad doesn’t care. He is only inviting Lucas to make himself feel better, Lucas knows it.

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Lucas lies. His mother probably knows he’s lying, but she doesn’t question it. Instead, she pauses, before raising her hand and placing it on his cheek, a warm smile filling her features.

“You’re glowing,” she claims, and Lucas can feel the heat in his cheeks. “Is it because of your friend?”

Lucas almost completely forgot that he brought Eliott with him. He turns towards the door and can see a flash of hair, as if Eliott had been peeking in and tried to hide last minute. Lucas chuckles quietly, turning back to look at his mother. She’s grinning at him, almost knowingly, and Lucas can feel his heart start to race. _Does he tell her?_

“That’s Eliott. He’s a writer,” Lucas goes with instead, his mother giving him a knowing smile.

“Just a _writer_? He seems like a good friend of yours to be willing to meet your mentally ill mother.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Lucas frowns, and his mother shrugs. “It is only the truth.”

“I know,” Lucas continues. “You make it sound so negative, though. It’s not negative. It’s not your fault.”

“I know sweetie,” she replies, smiling at him warmly.

That’s when it clicks for him; his mother loves him. His mother has been there for him since he’s been a young boy. Yeah, she didn’t have the capability to leave him, but Lucas _knows_ that she wouldn’t have even if she could have. He knows that his mother would give anything up for him. He knows that his mother values him more than anything in the world. That’s why he can’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

“Momma, I’m gay.”

His mother’s expression noticeably drops, and Lucas quickly continues before she can say anything. “I’m gay and—and I know that in religion, with God, he says it’s a sin, I _know_ , but God also says to love everyone, and he says to never spew hatred at others too, you know? So I believe that while I _am_ sinning, in the name of God, God will forgive me. And so, I’d hope you can forgive me too, even though I may be disappointing you with my revelation.”

Lucas inhales shakily when he finishes, bracing himself for anger, for her to yell at him, tell him to get the fuck out. Instead, a single tear runs down her cheek, both her hands grasping for his face.

“My beautiful boy,” she gasps through her tears. “I will love you eternally. Know that I am so _proud_ of the man you’ve become, and I would _never_ allow myself to lose you over something as small as who you fall in love with. I love you regardless, do you understand?" 

Lucas is crying too, his tears trailing down his face at a rapid pace. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in, and his face drops to her shoulder as they cry together. They’re not sad tears; it’s relief. Relief that Lucas was able to open up to his mother. Relief that his mother was accepting. Relief that his mother still loves him. Relief that he still has a family.

“Now,” his mother laughs, pulling away and hastily wiping her tears. “So Eliott. Your boyfriend?”

Lucas visibly colors, his eyes widening. “Momma! No. He’s… just a friend.”

“But you love him.”

Lucas turns again to look at the window, can see Eliott looking down at something, most likely his phone. As if knowing he’s being looked at, he looks up, his eyes meeting Lucas’. He raises his eyebrows, concern filling his features when he realizes that Lucas is recovering from crying. Lucas smiles back at him happily, letting him know that he’s okay. Eliott grins back at him, and suddenly his mother is pulling at his sleeve.

“Let him in, I want to meet him,” she says, and Lucas hesitates, because he’s not sure how big of a step this is. Introducing Eliott to his mother, to him, is a big step. That’s fully letting Eliott into his life, and Lucas is scared. He’s scared, because he remembers that Eliott is only here temporarily; only here until he finishes his book. Then he’s back to Paris, back to his crazy author life, a life without Lucas. Lucas is stuck in his little town, and the love of his life is stuck hours away.

And that’s the real shocker, isn’t it? _The love of his life_. Lucas fell in love with Eliott— _is_ in love with Eliott. He’s known it for a while, he’s sure. He just hasn’t been able to truly admit it to himself because the thought scares him. He doesn’t want to fall in love with someone that is going to leave him eventually. Why did he think it was a good idea to go and form a bond with someone he was going to fall in love with?

The thing is that it happened unexpectedly. He didn’t know he was going to fall for Eliott when he first met him. Yeah, Eliott was cute, and a sight for _very_ sore eyes, but since getting to know him, Eliott has become the most important person in his life. Eliott gave him a feeling of protectiveness; he felt like Eliott protected him, but he also felt like he could do the same _for_ Eliott. Eliott had been there for him since he got here, and while Lucas’ best friends have also been there for him since birth, he wasn’t in love with them. He loved Eliott. He loves Eliott.

His feet are moving to their own accord, and suddenly he’s swinging the door open. Eliott’s eyes widen, as he takes a small step back. “Lucas?” he mumbles quietly, confused. 

“Come in,” Lucas sighs happily.

“Are you sure?” Eliott asks, biting nervously at his lip, but Lucas grabs Eliott’s arm and drags him in before he can change his mind.

“Hi,” he says hesitantly, when he’s standing in front of his mother. He holds his hand out for a shake, but Lucas’ mother stands immediately, throwing her arms around Eliott’s frame.

“It is so wonderful to meet you,” she sighs, and Eliott wraps his arms around her, smiling brightly. “It is so wonderful to meet you too.”

They sit and talk for another thirty minutes, Eliott laughing along to whatever it is Lucas’ mother says. She teases Lucas, retelling some of Lucas’ worst moments, giving all sorts of childhood stories. Eliott laughs along, teasing Lucas here and there when the stories get really interesting. Lucas blushes through every single one of them, but he can’t help but smile regardless, because the day couldn’t have gone any better. His mother loved Eliott, his mother didn’t push him away, his mother didn’t care that he was gay. His mother loves him. It really was all Lucas needed.

Before they know it, a nurse is walking back into the room announcing that it’s time for dinner. The patients eat together as a group, and usually guests can attend if they’d like, but when Lucas checks the time, he realizes that they’ve been there for over two hours, and he’s not too keen on eating whatever food they’re served, so he decides him and Eliott will be on their way.

He hugs his mother tightly once more before he goes. “You better come visit me again,” she states tearfully, and Lucas can feel the burning sensation of tears in his eyes again. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She lets go to give a quick hug to Eliott. “You should also come back with Lucas. You’re a very kind man; Lucas is very lucky to have you in his life.”

“I definitely will, and I appreciate that, thank you so much.” Eliott responds, his cheeks tinted in embarrassment under the praise from his mother. They give one last wave to her, before heading for the doors.

They walk quietly to the nearest bus stop, sitting on the bench as they wait for a bus to take them back to their hotel. Eliott turns to look at him, a big grin on his face.

“That went well,” he gushes, and Lucas can’t help but grin back at him, just as wide.

“It really did,” he replies, then continues. “I told her I was gay, and she didn’t even flinch.”

Eliott’s grin drops slightly, but it turns into a gentle, reassuring smile. “I told you she was going to be supportive. Your mother really loves you unconditionally, Lucas.”

“Yeah, she does,” he sighs, and for once in a few weeks, he is genuinely happy. He spent the day with his mother, Eliott is next to him, he’s in Paris, everything’s good.

In this minute, life couldn’t be better.

 

***

 

Getting back to Sulniac is a bit weird. The minute he gets back, he’s thrown right back into university assignments, midterms, and work. He’s in a good mood throughout most of it, remembering the feeling of his mother’s hands grabbing him protectively.

The only thing sitting uneasily in his stomach is Eliott. The last time they saw each other was when Eliott dropped him off after Paris, and while he seemed fine, it had been two weeks now and he hadn’t seen or heard of from Eliott. He wasn’t actively texting him; in fact, since that night, they hadn’t texted each other. Lucas imagined that it could have been because Eliott was extremely busy writing, but that didn’t mean he was worrying any less.

“If you’re so nervous about it, just fucking text him,” Basile complained, as he stood in front of the coffee machine, coming up with whatever concoction he had been asked for.

“I don’t want to be annoying, especially if he’s working,” Lucas replied, gnawing at his lip nervously. He was looking down at his phone, the conversation with Eliott open, but he didn’t dare send a message. What would he even say? Should he just ask him to hang out? Ask him how his book progress is going? He didn’t understand why all of a sudden, he didn’t know what to say to him. It’s clear at this point that Lucas no longer sees Eliott as just as a friend, and it freaks him the fuck out.

“Just ask him if he wants to grab a coffee, or something. Or oh, invite him for drinks, later. _La Boissonière_ is doing a cheap night today and we don’t want to miss out. Just invite him to that, see if he wants to come.”

Lucas twists his mouth in thought for a while, trying to formulate a decent text. His hands were shaking as he wrote the message, but he took a deep breath, sending it through anyways. 

 

_Hey, you busy tonight?_

**eliott(:**  
probably writing  
why

_ah, okay, well the boys and I were going to grab some_  
drinks tonight, they’re doing some sort of cheap night  
and we definitely can’t resist cheap drinks haha  
  
I was gonna ask if you wanted to join but if you’re  
writing don’t worry about it

**eliott(:**  
yeah i probably won’t make it  
sorry

_no worries man_  
  
but hey feel free if u want to come write here at  
the café, Basile misses you lol  
  
and the coffee truly is the best it’s ever been

**eliott(:  
**haha

**eliott(:**  
gotta go, pretty busy  


**eliott(:  
**talk later yeah?

_Talk later :)_

***

“He’s mad at me,” Lucas slurs, earning his fourth round of moans and groans from the boys. He’s been complaining about his conversation with Eliott ever since they got to the bar, and the boys were sick of talking about it, but Lucas couldn’t get his mind off of it, and the alcohol in his system definitely wasn’t helping.

“You saw how he responded!” Lucas whines, throwing his face in his hands. “So blunt, so bland. He didn’t want to talk to me. I pissed him off.”

“You didn’t do shit, Lucas,” Yann rolls his eyes, biting into a mozzarella stick. “To be honest, Lucas, you put yourself through way too much stress with this guy. He’s cool and all, don’t get me wrong, but if you’re not going to just tell him how you feel then I don’t know how good a friendship with him will be for you. All it does is stress you out.”

“I know,” Lucas replies. “I can’t just drop him though. I lo— _like_ him. I like him. A lot. It’s hard.”

Arthur and Basile give each other a knowing look, before turning their attention back to Lucas. “I gotta agree with Yann,” Basile interjects. “You’re definitely falling for this kid, but he doesn’t seem to have his shit figured out, and it’s stressing you out.”

“I can’t drop him, what’s not clicking for you guys,” Lucas mutters, gulping down his fifth shot. The burn in his esophagus feels nice, and it almost makes him forget about his problems. _Almost._

When the night hits its peak, and the dance floor is raging, Lucas is still sitting in his booth, his phone back on his conversation with Eliott. He knows he probably shouldn’t text him. He knows that his drunk mind is very likely to say something extremely stupid, but he can’t help himself. He has to know if he’s done something wrong. He probably won’t even remember that he sent these texts the next day.

 

_Heyyyy Eliott_

_Haha_

_I’m drunk as fuuuck_  
  
It’s fun  
  
Would have been m0re fun with you tho  
  
But you didn’t come  
  
:(((((  
  
Made me sad  
  
Wish u were here

_Answerrrrr_

_Stop ignoring me._

_Plzzzzz_

_Ugh_

_Goodnight ELIott_

_Love youuuu_

***

 

The next morning is rough.

He pukes his guts out all morning, trying to make himself feel better before his afternoon shift at the café. He doesn’t know why he thought it’d be a good idea to get piss drunk before a work day, but he had been too upset to allow himself to do otherwise.

Speaking of being upset; while he didn’t remember most of the night, or sending any texts, he was definitely in for a rude awakening when he woke up in the morning, seeing all the texts he had sent to Eliott. Of course, he would text Eliott drunk, and of course Eliott wouldn’t reply. The “love you” was just the icing on the cake, though; he really hit the nail with that one.

Lucas had no idea how he was ever going to face Eliott ever again. Especially when Eliott hadn’t replied. He probably scared him off. Eliott was never going to talk to him again, and it was Lucas’ fault.

Lucky (or unlucky, perhaps) for him, Eliott comes in approximately five minutes after Lucas starts his shift, as if he had been waiting for him. When he spots Lucas behind the counter, he grins, stalking up quickly to the counter.

“Hi,” he smiles, leaning his elbows on the counter and leaning his entire body forward. Lucas can feel the heat taking over his cheeks, and he stutters out a bunch of nonsense that’s definitely bringing more heat to his cheeks, before settling for, “hi”.

“How are you?” Eliott smirks, and Lucas gulps.

“Good.”

“Good.”

They stare at each other for a bit, and Lucas is scrambling his mind for something, _anything_ to say, anything to ease the tension, but Eliott speaks first instead.

“I’ll just have an espresso shot, please,” Eliott orders, and it takes Lucas a second before he snaps out of his Eliott-induced dream, punching in his order quickly.

“Espresso shot,” Lucas chuckles. “You trying to stay awake all night, or something?”

“Trying to get my last few chapters in,” Eliott replies, making Lucas look up.

“Your last few chapters?” Lucas asks, and he can already hear his heart shattering into a billion pieces and his stomach dropping to his ass.

“Yeah, I’m almost done my book. It’ll have to go through an editor to be proofread, and finalized, but that’s all done in Paris, so I really just have to get the book finished.”

“Oh,” Lucas replies, and he hopes Eliott can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. “That means your vacation here in Sulniac is coming to an end.”

Eliott’s face drops immediately, as if he can feel just how upset Lucas is. “Yeah, I guess.”

Lucas quietly finishes up with Eliott’s order, mumbling a quiet “That’ll be 6 euros” before turning to make Eliott’s espresso. He can feel his heart sinking to his stomach, he can feel the emptiness in his chest. Eliott is a fast writer; before he knows it, he’ll have his last few chapters completed and will be moving back to Paris. He’ll publish his book and become famous because his novel will definitely be amazing, and he’ll get invited to all of these events, and he’s going to forget about Lucas, going to forget about Sulniac. It was temporary. It was just a place to stay until he finished.

Lucas wants to believe that, but another part of him is fighting those thoughts, convincing him that his moments with Eliott weren’t nothing. They meant something to him, and they had to mean something to Eliott. Eliott had to leave of course, but that didn’t mean his time here meant nothing to him. Lucas doesn’t want Eliott’s last few days, or weeks, however long it takes him, he doesn’t want those days to be sad and depressing. He wants Eliott to appreciate everything little old Sulniac has to offer him. He wants Eliott to not regret coming here.

When he turns to give Eliott his coffee, Eliott speaks up immediately. “We should do something fun.”

Lucas raises a single eyebrow, but he can feel his heart soaring in his chest. “Such as?”

“I don’t know, just something. Before I leave.”

Lucas shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Sure, whatever you want.”

“I’ll think about it and get back to you?”

“Definitely,” Lucas smiles. Eliott grins, grabbing his shot, winking at Lucas quickly before taking a seat at a small table near the window. He immediately whips out his laptop and starts eagerly typing away at his computer.

Lucas doesn’t know what Eliott’s got up his sleeve, but whatever it is, he’s looking forward to it. As long as it’s with Eliott, he’ll always be looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts/Comments/Kudos are very much appreciated! Let me know what you think!


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